~ An Hour With You~

Old Man And His Dog

I passed them by each morning,
The old man and his dog,
Just sitting on the park bench,
Whether clear, hot, cold or fog.

He always threw up his hand,
A warm greeting to a stranger,
I see the sparkle in his eyes,
As I wave without signs of anger.

He is an icon on the park bench,
Daily I look now to see if he is there,
My heart is drawn to him and his dog,
Seems like he has no one to care.

The red shirt is growing familiar,
I tune my eyes in search of the hue,
He wears an old brown felt hat,
Dotted with droplets of morning due.

It is always so early in the morning,
When this man I see each day,
I wonder if he is passing by,
Or the bench his bed as fireflies play.

Dew upon the brim of his hat,
Warm, this shirt of deepest red,
He is not so cheerful lately,
The eyes' sparkle recently shed.

Concern grows within me,
Days pass and he is not here,
The old man and his dog,
Something has happened I fear.

I see an officer of the park,
I question him of the missing man.
Head held low as he spoke of the pair,
They had found him prone in the sand.

Just a few feet from his bench,
The old man without his dog,
Once a familiar figure of life,
Passed away in the morning fog.

Gayle Davis©
October 21, 2005


Copyright © 2000-2004
Marie B's Designs.
All rights reserved.

Music: "Time To Go"

Original music By: Mel Webb©
Used With Permission


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