He cradled the bag in hand,
Glazed stare under a hats brow,
Alone.
Fingers wizened, body slouched,
It all speaks of a heart on its
Own.
But, comes by the wife of decades
Gone by, a shared life, a shared
Soul.
A smile grows in eyes and lips,
Unity restored, time bears no
Toll.
Glazed stare under a hats brow,
Alone.
Fingers wizened, body slouched,
It all speaks of a heart on its
Own.
But, comes by the wife of decades
Gone by, a shared life, a shared
Soul.
A smile grows in eyes and lips,
Unity restored, time bears no
Toll.
Spoiler
I wrote this a while ago, in a matter of minutes while out in town. I just saw this elderly chap sitting around, started writing about him. By the third stanza his wife turned up, so it all fell into place pretty well.
