The Old Man at the Window

The Old Man at the Window

 

The old man at the window,

Looks up at marble skies,

Whispers to his darling wife,

Who passed away, a year today.

 

He likes to think she hears him,

He tells her all the news,

The gossip which she thrived on,

He knows she'd be amused.

 

The old man at the window,

Watches passers by,

Wishing he was younger,

Holding on to yesteryear.

 

Remembering the good times,

A long-due toothless smile,

His faithful dog sits at his feet,

Waits patiently for walkies.

 

The old man at the window,

Stands silent, ponders on,

The only sound the ticking clock,

Each second, closer to her.

 

A tear rolls down his wizened cheek,

And takes an age to hit the floor,

A coke can lands just by his door,

Left for years, to rust in peace.

 

The old man at the window,

Draws curtains on the day,

Sits down to cure his aching head,

Thoughts of her help ease the pain.

 

That night, the old man in his chair,

Called out her name, and then she came,

The light pulled at his very soul,

Release at last, his peace at last.