The Man

THE MAN The old man with the bulbous nose ignores people wherever he goes he kicks at stones with his big feet uncaring about who he may meet on and on he stomps and mutters always searching in the gutters clothes now torn with tatters one can see to him it no longer matters once he had a job in the mine and lived on good food and a glass of wine then he lost the only one who cared and with who is life he shared A little stray dog she may have been but their friendship was a joy to be seen each day at shifts end she would be waiting at the gate for her friend on days when he was home over the hills close by they would roam ten years have passed since the day she died now he has no-one to walk at his side so on and on he stomps and mutters kicking stones and tins in the gutters. beejaz