Summer Walk In Grafton

Before we saw him
I heard the tapping of his cane –

an old man in a green shirt
emerging in a scene

of colonial stone walls,
bushes with pink flowers,
sunlit trees overflowing with leaves.

He could have been Father Time himself
shuffling his way
inevitably toward us

his cane clicking like a clock.

As he drew closer
I could almost see

the weight of human history
bearing down
on his sagging shoulders

and when he looked up
his cheeks appeared frozen
in a crooked shape

like a couple of sharp stones
left behind by a glacier,
cobbled together
to form a face.

Surprising us with a smile
at the moment of our meeting
he pulled a single instant

from his pocket of time
and placed it
in our outstretched hands

as a gift from eternity

before going, tapping,
on his way.


2 thoughts on “Summer Walk In Grafton

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