Happy old man at the bus stop
All bent up and bearded
Smiling to the world it seems
Clearly caught up in his dreams
He’s tidy in a old guy way
Not dishevelled or scruffy
Hard to put an age on him
Eighty or so -What’s his life seen
Not prisoner of any home
He seems so free and life’s his own
The city –The country he’s all around
In every village street or town!
Copyright © 2009 Ray Feasey
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem