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Poem

T h e   S a l e

Near the end of a lonely road
A home where an old man did reside
Traffic parked all around the house
Contents "For Sale", -  the sign implied

"He'd lived there as long as he could, -
Ninety four years", I heard someone say
Immediate family, now passed on
At last, now he has moved away

For decades, this had been his home
How sad,  he had to go
Feeble hands, prevented  tasks
And steps were getting slow

Furniture, battered, worn and aged
Old radios, fans, and silverware
Used garden tools, and books galore
Some ordinary, but others rare

So many items, inside and out
In their time, each held their place
Now little more than a cast-a-way 
His new address, had little space

I'm sure within his memory bank
Many younger days he recalled
A telephone, - - the first TV,
Or when a furnace, was installed

Only a few items, now adorn
The place he now abides
A bed, a chair,and one small table
A few special pictures, are his pride

There to live out his final days
Lonely hours, seem to have no end
A highlight that would mean the most,
Is a visit from family, - or a friend  

        Colan L Hiatt  =  09-24-13
          ©  All Rights Reserved

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