Old Man

The old man sits on his porch
Eyes squinting from the glare of the sun
He pulls out his pipe
And smokes it peacefully
As he stares off in the distance

I wonder what he sees...

Does remember with sadness
The simpler ways?
Or think of the hardships
He's surely had his share of?

Does he think we have squandered
The riches of the earth?
Wasted away all of the things
For which he has worked?

Does he think we are hopeless
And never will learn?
From the lessons of life
He had hoped to pass on?

I look at him and this I see...

I see a light dancing there
In those deep dark pooled eyes
I see knowledge
Etched in his furrowed brow

I see laughter and joy
In the wrinkles of his smiling face
I see kindness and love in his heart
As he tells of his tales

And when he looks at me
I hope he does indeed see
All the wonderful things
He has given to me


To the memory of my dear Grandfather....How I miss him