When the old man speaks,
Seldom as it is, everyone respects
His words, and files it away
As wise advice.
Once he was in those fields,
Outworking his children twofold.
Now in his late age, his body
Crumbles, rusted like an old locomotive.
Still, his memory, in the minds of his children,
Compels them to perk up and shut up.
Like an old desert tortoise,
He has walked the desert many times,
And defied the hawks many more.
A man stalked by death.
Here he sits; in an old rocking chair with death very near.
This man has no fear, for he has been on the battle field for years.
Death is now like a lost friend that comes and goes now and then.
Nothing left to enjoy in this life; confined to a chair, struggling for every breath of air.
He asks for the horseman to come to set him free.
Why does the horse man hesitate to deliver, this man surely cannot live forever?
Maybe death is sometimes earned and you cannot wash your hands, for some of the things you do when you are a man.