Old Man
Sitting in his rocking chair.Shifting back and forth.
A humble look appears on his sadly aging face.
Each wrinkle tells a story.
Each breathe he steals has him closer over the hill.
His rocking chair stops.
He reaches for his cane.
His long face sits over his shadow.
A large, gray, misshaped figure, leaning.
A former young lass,
With a darling grin spread across her face.
She comes behind him, giving him a kiss on him head.
He seems happy.
With that,
He sits back in his rocking chair.
Shifting back and forth,
Still, a humble look,
Still his wrinkles.
Still his breathing.
And there his shadow lay.
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