Poetry

Old Man Walking

I, old man

walking

through

milling

shoppers

along

village

streets

towards

the church

unseen by

the young

within

unseeing

cocoons

of youth

ignored by

middle-aged

caught in

whirls

of getting

spending

rearing

achieving

what?

others old

lost in

memories

living in

pasts

all unreal

all maya

only I hear

neglected

stones in

the cold

cemetery

call, call

and speak

there I

pause

to greet

friends

to be.

                                       ~Ian Fletcher

                                         Cardiff, Wales

2 Comments

  1. I do like it a lot. It is a little gloomy! Hope it is no reflection of your current mood!

  2. Ha, ha! Thanks Amido. Mercifully, I feel quite content as I age, though of course it can be something of a melancholy process at times.