The tip of that old Marlboro cigarette held between his sagging, wrinkly fingers burns out,

as the man breathes out a gray, hazy smoke.

Christmas music drones on senselessly and bright lights continue to flicker unsteadily as people rush by in hurry for their holiday gifts.

But the man doesn’t notice. 

He runs his hand through the last strands of his white hair and lets out a tear,

turns his glassy blue eyes to the sky, and chuckles as he says,

"She’d be doing okay. She will be alright."