In the eyes of the watchman
your existence is so calmingly ordinary you add nothing to the journey he does
Calm, silent and uneventful full of goings and of comings
but your presence was not marked not more than a jester's shortcomings
The eyes of the watchman grow mossy and dim as he stares from the back of his horse that stares just like him.
Because his eyes are stone but is duty-bound to watch and protect and not make a sound