Each morn he rises from his bed
Scratches, feels the stubble on his cheek.
Has breakfast when the cat is fed
Then off to the park, his friends to seek.
Sitting at the table in his favorite place
His pieces set out before him.
Munching on a piece of cheese
He waits to see his best friend Ben.
Ben arrives a little late, not too well today.
He thinks Old age, is catching up
Pours coffee, then they start to play,
Checkmate! It’s Ben who’s up.
They laugh and speak of better times.
Joining them, a homeless man.
He’s a little drunk, they pay no mind.
To them He’s just a guy called Dan.
They share their coffee bread and cheese,
Talk and have another game.
Just a memory is the winter freeze
Morning frost, and arthritic pain.
They wander off to their favorite Bar
A game of pool with good mates
Discuss their favorite football star,
See the clock it’s getting late.
They wander off go separate ways.
Home for dinner, then to bed,
This is how he spends his days
Good friends and memories fill his head.
He’s waiting for that coming day
His weight will be gone, no more pain.
She will come to take him away.
Be with his beloved once again.
As he’s drifting off to sleep
Remembers Mary the one he’s missed
With Love so pure and love so deep.
He feels on his cheek, a gentle Kiss.
R. A. Spicer © June 20, 2004
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