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one old man and me
by Charlie Morganpouring his water on a sidewalk weed
and saying something in spanish and
giggling, his gap-toothed smile beams
a hero's welcome, but no war was on.
laughing at his joke, i slapped my knee;
something i'd seen him do a million times.
the green bench, white with bird droppings
awaited his gaunt, lanky, and happy frame.
pigeons scurry for his bread and crackers;
their daily fare for being in human concert.
old pigeons, one-winged, one-footed; lame;
fidget to get close for a nibble of bread.
he sits, pigeons clasp his shoulder; hold.
await alert, watch his every move, gurgle.
he smiles and pitches pieces of crackers;
the hungering horde bobbling at his feet. 11/19/2007 Posted on 11/19/2007
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michael Faraday on 11/05/08 at 01:34 PM vivid scene for sure. enjoyed it! cheers, m |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 03/28/09 at 02:07 PM You descibed this scene well (you always do!) I could picture you with the old man. This piece reminds me of the Simon and Garfunkle song: "Old Friends" Great write. |
| Posted by Maude Curtis on 04/08/09 at 05:06 PM very vivid picture. good read charlie |
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