Old Man, Sitting at a Table

Old man, sitting at a table

Bitterly cold during the height of summer

Sitting, waiting for something unknown

A kind glance, some acknowledgement

That he too is a person

 

Men, women, running to a destination

Wrapped up in themselves

Frightened to acknowledge

Anyone not like themselves

What if he talks to me?

 

Young man, leaning on his friend

Stands up to get some water

Takes off his robe to wash

The feet of the men

Who will flee in his time of need

 

Father, father, why have thou forsaken me?

Last breath is taken

Ultimate sacrifice given

His life for yours

Old man, sitting at a table.

©2002 deneen white

Advertisements
This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s