The Old Man On The Corner

Following is a few lines from a piece I've been working on. It's one of those things I don't know if I'll finish or not. I figured I'd just throw it out there and see if it stirs any interest (from me not you).

I've seen the old man on the corner, staring into what I had thought was the emptiness of lost days. I've seen the old man on the corner, dressed in yesterday's clothes, his skin weathered, his grey hair blowing in the wind. I've seen the old man on the corner, alone and lonely, although I've never spoken to him to know for sure. He smiles as a handful of neighborhood kids ramble by in a quest for greener pastures. Then his gaze returns to the distant horizon as he pulls his watch from its pocket, winds it, and returns it to its pocket, never looking at the time.