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We Old Men

Somewhere down the gravel path
each carriage moves slowly
and my great grandfather
lumbers out, not yet ancient
as I drag my hand across my eyes-

these weary feet will also beg
surprise in passersby, as the man keeps
living, the unexpected soldier
going in and out of Walmart 
coughing
while the young close their eyes
to pray.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 11/22/2012 4:08:00 PM
These are Good words of yours man, your poem creates a very clear picture in my minds eye, and it has me thinking, thats always a quality I like in poetry, thanks for that. Read ;{>
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