The Old Man

Written by: Lorraine Ferns

He stood there
Grey hair dirty, long
Unwanted
His grubby shirt faded
Old
Eyes sad, torn
No one
No home
Dirty bag holds food
Pushed aside
Misplaced

Stared at
Stared from
His frame of 
Shocking disclosures
Un-habituated
Sits down
Pauses, pausing
Moving aside

Pulling away
From life
Pulled away from
Us, them
Wrinkled noses
Snickering
Compassion
Compassionless

What happened
What happened to you
In your burrowing world
In your past
Decades
Have passed
Onto your wrinkles
Near death

Your forever lost
And at times
So are we
With our lowered lids.