3/3/05 – Stories

Monday Poem, A Year and a Day

Stories – 3/3/05

There is an old man out on the island with me.

You don’t see him in his yard much anymore, though he once was out all the time.

He’s mostly deaf, though he can still hear a little.
He’s mostly blind, though he can still see shadows.

Almost a century has passed in his life and I would love to know the stories,

but how do you ask?

Do you say, “You shall be gone soon, so let me know your secrets.”

How rude to ask, even in softer words.
How presumptuous to request for the keys to his life.

Still, bones tell no good yarns and then, it will be too late.

Some day, I too wish to be old.
I hope they will be braver than I.

Ask away.

2 Responses

  1. I’m glad you found your notebook.

    You are a very good poet.

    I think most people know what the secrets will be, but it’s good to get confirmation from someone who has travelled further.

    • Thanks Ross. I really enjoy writing them. 🙂

      The old man I wrote about here passed away about a year or so after I wrote this. I did, however manage to screw up enough courage to ask.

      What a life.

      He was born in Berlin in 1909 and remembered his older brothers coming home, wounded on the Western Front. Later, he escaped Nazi Germany to live in Palestine. Amazing adventures which he considered, “nothing special.”

      I’m so glad I asked.


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