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Old Man…
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June 2021 Old man…
Why do you bother me ?
You don’t know me, and…
I don’t, know you.
Ah …….you’ve come to see paddy.
I hear, that you’re Irish too!
There’s an old man sitting,
at the end of my bed.
Flat cap, n tweeds.
With worn, hob nail boots.
He lit his pipe, and turned to me.
Tell him….. I’ll he’ll be fine, no worries.
I’ve got to go now.
Tell him,
And tell him, perhaps
I’ll visit again……
Perhaps
they’ll be another time
Giajl © Jim Love
The smell of the pipe smoke lingered, next morning. But Paddy’s Grandad , had died years before. And nobody slept there
That night nor any other.
June 1974.
