The Old Man

By Jeri Thompson

He laughs at my jokes,
makes eye contact
then follows my train of thought
to unknown country
happy for the trip.
He is thankful for what I give
like a gift in July
and doesn’t seem to notice stretched skin
or too many banked calories.
He says yes
to what comes his way
grasping, clutching, clawing
up the mountain
still
a conquistador
exploring new territories.

Previously published on Carnival Lit Mag.

3 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: