Poetry Sunday

I think about growing old a lot less than I used to. I am old, after all ... at least compared to a lot of the self-important young clowns who hang out at the mall. Nevertheless, we old fogies know how to relate to each other, as Ken Hada tells us in today's poem ... 

Old Men

by Ken Hada

I make it a point now

to wave to old men I pass

old men standing in shade

of a yard, maybe

a daughter's place

where now he's just a tenant

trying to understand role reversal.

I raise my forefinger

As I steer country roads or pass

Through tired neighborhoods.

Most return a wave or nod Howdy.

Driving gives you some perspective,

shows you how you might end up.

We allow something

now, especially those of us sitting

on porch swings, those

who never got around to going

somewhere, those

who still feel like something 

somehow is missing.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. And wave to an old guy - he'll appreciate it.

More thoughts coming. 

Bilbo