Imagination and Reality

I've seen a man,

Walking to and fro,

In the foggy morn.

A black hat,

And a walking stick,

Waiting for someone to warn.

He had a scarf,

Gray, gray, gray as could be,

Around his neck, it was tightly worn,

In that foggy morn.

His moustache,

Thick and black once before:

Yet now it stands,

A few, graying hairs,

Upon his crying face,

Gray, gray, gray as could be.

He walks with a limp,

Upon his left leg.

Every step a grimace,

Every grimace, some pain.

Yet there he walks,

To and fro, in that foggy morn.

A day will come,

When the man is gone,

And the street I see,

Will be empty as can be:

And all that shall

Be my view,

Is a foggy morn,

Gray, gray, gray as can be.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A interesting poem. I liked the message given and shared.
"And the street I see,
Will be empty as can be:"
Life changes. For the better or worst? It is where we are standing. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote