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A Poem To Consider


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Posted

Author:  Phil Robertson

The Old Man

I entered the room

looked to the right.

An old man staring,

his eyes locked on mine.

 

An old man

hair thin and gray

blue eyes, set deep

in a withered face.

 

Eyes penetrating,

into my very being.

Such audacity, staring

unblinking, staring.

 

HIs face...a record

of his many years.

Experiences and stories

to be told to grandkids.

 

Stooped, he bears

the weight of his years.

Eyesight and memory

both a bit fuzzy.

 

Suddenly he smiles,

from the mirror.

 

Gregory

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