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… whilst he sits quietly on a park bench in a drab grey suit, grey blue eyes looking blankly around as twilight draws near, parents & children & joggers & loafers & walkers with dogs are not aware of him, as he seems to shift otherwhen through ye rifts...

… as tracing a way over a map, he walks, tracing the grassy tracks, dwelling on the windy crossways, crossing wooden bridges & crumbled ditches, tracing on along the tracks, standing still over the throbbing dewy green turfy triangle between two crossways,...

Although middling & unapparent, undescried & silent, he is there, sometimes wistfully smiling, waking awareness wholly unaware of his presence, though he is aware of everything which is there or not there, everything which should, or could, or might be...

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