The old man
Huddled quietly
Into the bus seat
Tightly holding on to
A tired bouquet
Of wilted flowers
With sad eyes
Looking small and
Forlorn in wrinkled
Coat and pants
The flowers
Mirroring him
A slow sigh escapes
The wounded face
Eyes blindly staring
At nothing
Old lips moving
Without sound
The bus stops
He shuffles out
Carefully holding on to
The flower wannabes
Towards the gate
Of the cemetery
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Author:
Alfred Peyer (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 1st, 2017 01:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 78
- Users favorite of this poem: Michael Edwards, Heather T, Louis Gibbs
Offline)
Comments11
A picture painted so well here of many left now on their own and not knowing what to do with life any more - a sad fact but appealingly written from a poet's caring observation.
You know Fay, I realize that I am probably more of a story teller than a poet. But I try. Thank you for your comment.
Beautiful write with wonderful imagery.
Thank you Goldfinch, I am so glad you liked it.
Oh this really takes you there - so full of sadness yet so beautifully written - a favourite for sure
Thank you so much Michael, I really do appreciate your comments!
Ahhhh i read this and imagined ever ouce of it in my head. Sad and beautiful, thankyou x
Whenever I take the bus, which is very seldom, I do watch the people and sometimes try to guess what they are doing, where they are going, etc.
That old man in the poem is pure imagination though.
Your last lines were felt in my stomach. The sad condition of both man and bouquet speaks volumes about his lonesome days. Bravo.
Thank you Heather! Anytime a poem elicits feelings is a great day for me. Isn't that what we all want? Be it a laugh, or sadness, it doesn't matter, but we have touched someone.
A sad part of life recounted here in mournful colors.
Unfortunately, b-e, there are too many lonely old people out there!
Brilliant ... you had me from the time he got on the bus all the way to the grave yard! This one is a favorite for sure. Your work continues to inspire me, Fred.
Thanks Louis, you are making me blush....no wait, must be the sunburn!
Sensitive write Fred.
Thanks orchidee, even old guys can be sensitive, compassionate, and emphatic, at least once in a while. 🙂
That is pretty darn good! Although poignant. Love how you put that he resembles the condition of the flowers.
Thank you so much WBL, yes I don't know exactly where that came from. In my mind I saw the resemblance between the flowers and the man and felt that it fit.
Now, now - surely you're not THAT old! Erm, I was gonna write a similar poem (was I?! heehee) but I missed my bus! lol.
I missed my bus a few times too! Couldn't find the bus station, then couldn't remember the number, so I went back home and had a glass of wine!
This is such an evocative story. Powerful in its simplicity. I am finding myself wondering about his life and what brought him here.
Thank you Elsie! I do like it if readers find something in a poem that appeals to them, or makes them think. Mahalo!
Absolutely! And you have written some lovely pieces, I am catching up slowly!
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