The Old Man Poem by Wallis minten

Inside a small house lives a man
Who never speaks to anyone else
He sits on his porch and hums away the hours
He prefers to be by himself
He tips his hat as you pass him
Sometimes he will give you a wave
But will never invite you over for tea
It has always been that way
But last morning as I walked by his porch
I saw he was nowhere to be seen
I found it strange because he was always there
And wondered where he could be
This evening I went for a walk
And saw a black car parked in his drive
And on the porch stood people in black
Who said the old man had died
I took of my hat as they walked by
Thinking of the last nod he gave me the other day
Then realized with a shiver down my spine
That when he had, he’d already passed away