Poetic-Verses
111,098 poems read
The Moon Man
I would see him walking in the afternoons and evenings
Slowly, quietly, carefully
Along the busy boulevard towards the park
He walked with a cane
But it seemed like he didn't really need it
Grey haired and rosy cheeked
I wondered about his story
But I was always just getting home from work
I would nod and he would smile
Then I got laid off
And I would find myself, after cocktails
Sitting in the park
Wondering what to do with my life
The first time I saw him in the park near dark
He was standing by a towering pine tree
Holding his cane and staring in perfect stillness
At a spot on the horizon just north of the Old Bell Tower
I recognized him by the silhouette of his cane
Then the full moon rose just north of the tower
I sat and watched the beauty of the moon rise
As I watched, he turned and headed back into the city
The next time I saw him was a week later
Still unemployed, I had left the bar
And wandered towards the park, alone
Wondering if I would ever work again
When I saw him and his cane
About a block closer to the park than I was
I thought it strange that an old man would wander to the park
In the late at night and I wondered if he drank
This time he stood in a grove of young Ash trees
North of where I saw him when the full moon rose
It was dark as he stood with his cane once again watching the horizon
Then the half moon rose. I wondered if the moon would rise with out him.
Slowly, quietly, carefully
Along the busy boulevard towards the park
He walked with a cane
But it seemed like he didn't really need it
Grey haired and rosy cheeked
I wondered about his story
But I was always just getting home from work
I would nod and he would smile
Then I got laid off
And I would find myself, after cocktails
Sitting in the park
Wondering what to do with my life
The first time I saw him in the park near dark
He was standing by a towering pine tree
Holding his cane and staring in perfect stillness
At a spot on the horizon just north of the Old Bell Tower
I recognized him by the silhouette of his cane
Then the full moon rose just north of the tower
I sat and watched the beauty of the moon rise
As I watched, he turned and headed back into the city
The next time I saw him was a week later
Still unemployed, I had left the bar
And wandered towards the park, alone
Wondering if I would ever work again
When I saw him and his cane
About a block closer to the park than I was
I thought it strange that an old man would wander to the park
In the late at night and I wondered if he drank
This time he stood in a grove of young Ash trees
North of where I saw him when the full moon rose
It was dark as he stood with his cane once again watching the horizon
Then the half moon rose. I wondered if the moon would rise with out him.