An Old Man Contemplates the Dailiness of Life

Lately it’s all a muddle,
Green leaves in the park
Whisper of winds
Stray piano
From an upper story
He can’t focus
Thinks of algebra
And superstitions
He should have kept home
Ought to have known better
Feigning citizenship
Who is he anyway
Walking the familiar neighborhood
His life now a series
Of bright points
Keep walking he thinks
Language isn’t much of a thing
Keep walking

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by skuusisto