Reason to Live

03/23/2008

The wood was splitting in its columns
One could see the remnants of the gate
The house was crooked and derelict
An apt reflection of his fate

He sat in a cane chair
His eyes staring into infinity
The longing for something was evident
His anticipation disturbed the serenity

Then suddenly with a push of hands he stood up
As if his wait was over
The clatter of small feet broke the silence
And tiny hands reached his fingers to cover

A bright smile appeared on his face
Not for the sun, not for the river
Not for the birds, not for the flowers
This is what he lived for

--Sam