Stick People

Everywhere around me I only see Men and women as thought up by Lowry They come click-clacking by,leaning on sticks I feel my senses are just playing tricks. Hobble and wobble a penguin parade Their legs grown feeble,their strength it does fade Where once they were strong,all proud and upright Now do they stoop and stumble in plain sight. Old age comes not alone.As the Sphinx says At evening the sticks become third stays They creep and they crawl out in the sunlight Death to soon bring them into deep dark night No more their echoing steps will I hear That I'll be close behind is what I fear