Three Old Men

I Latecomer at a Church Concert

Intermittant illumination
as the figure makes its way forward
along the dim right aisle;
steps silent as a cat, body arched
like a bow barely stretched;
hard to see if it’s a hunter’s
or a golfer’s cap – does he know
his cane taps perfect cadence
on the centuries-old stones?

II Cowboy

One with his proud mount –
a tumbleweed centaur –
ageless – it is only
when he descends
I face a prune –
a peppered plum
so in love with sun
and night winds
it must have frozen
as it withered.

III The Beggar at the Train Station

His eyes remind me
of nothing so much as pepper
in waxed paper – sandwiched corns
trying to hide in fog banks –
to avoid being crushed, perhaps.


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