The face appeared on the grey hoarding board —

The face appeared on the grey hoarding board —

thick lines, deliberate, not a quick pass

but something worked at, labored toward

a particular look. No tag, no crass

slogan. Just a face. One eye

filled solid black, the other left

as outline only — hollow. I

stood in front of it, bereft

of any reason to be late

and late anyway. The jaw

set hard. That hollow eye. The weight

of it. Whatever the artist saw

when they came at night to put this here,

knowing the board would be painted grey

by end of week. I spent — a year?

No. Twenty minutes. Then walked away.

By afternoon the man in the hi-vis vest

was at it with a roller, grey

going over grey. He worked southwest

to northeast. Methodical. The day

was cold. The hollow eye went last.

I watched until the wall was wall.

Whatever had been there had passed.

He loaded up his van. That's all.