Walk off the Earth~by Norman Wilson

 

 

Walk off the Earth

He sits on the bench of transformation
Where the light gives away to the day
Amid the mist, that cradles the darkness
As the abandon old man ponders away

Discarded in the world of tomorrows
Forgotten by family and old friends
He sits in a timeless vault of yesterdays
In the bleakness, that measures his end

A chill of fall rests upon his shoulders now
Slumping him in sadness churning within
As he deliberates the merits of a flower
Picked over then left to wither away like him

Sullenly he waits as compassion has given to flight
In cold of another night, where winter dares to run
As he remains on the bench before his final hour
For a walk off the earth that has no sun when done

All rights reserved 12/11/15
Norman Francis