The Old Man

on a front porch
on the side of a hill
just off a windy back road
a lonely man sits
with book and memories
of a simpler time...
no family or friends has he
this lonely old man,
a wife who walked away
years ago, leaving no
no clues or explanations,
a child who left shortly later
wishing him nothing...
but could no longer stay.
a brother and sister who
turned their backs on him 
years ago now over
things he had said in anger,
no second chances...
alone on a hill he sits
pondering nothing except
wondering why he's still here.
locals see him as a stranger
avoiding at all costs,
mail is delivered only when
the old man's not outside.
not a word does he say
to anyone, except the birds that
sit on a nearby tree branch,
staring at him sitting there.
into town he goes
once a month, no more
grocery bags sit in the back seat
of a two thousand and five Chevy.
one day he will die and no one
will want to bury...
courts will order him tossed inside
the cabin burned to the ground,
the fire department will be the
only ones at his funeral.

June 11, 2025