Follow by Email

About Me (Categories at the bottom of the page!)

Friday, April 30, 2010

The Adventure

The Adventure

An old man
grayed with age
patiently waits.
He is slowly
Furrows deepen
In an expression
Less face.
He waits
Still waiting
And clocks rhythm ticking
No longer in his brain.

A child’s sharp cry in the distance
Does not turn his head.
floats by

And wind caresses the old man
While he waits.
He is covered with dust,
Like a souvenir
From the World’s Fair
Mostly useless (except faint memories)
Covered with dust.

He stirs,
Painfully comes to life.
Andthebusdoorswingsopen,athousand childrenracepast
Cheering race wreckless
Past the waiting old man.
No dry curse passes his lips
Sweatless hands finger dull dry coins
And the steps are mountains
And on a stiff bench,
Sitting at the top, he knows.

February 9, 2010 1:49 PM