Old man I see you walk the broken road
as morning rays of sun delve into the
shadows to reach you. Look up. Look
up and see what the world is offering.
Old man I watch you as you hobble past
your coat pulled in tight, I see the pain
that festers in your bones, I feel the
shame that rots inside your soul.
Old man, you know that I do see,
the glimmer is in your eyes that avert
and search the mottled concrete.
Old man, blessed are you with the beauty
of grace, I wonder now who you were
in your younger years when your body
was your own, your soul is etched
upon your face, in the eyes that do not
look, in the steps that back away, in the
hesitation at the world.
Old man look up, see you are not alone.
Karen Hayward ©2016