The Old Man Poem by Dorsey Baker

The old man taps his walking stick
To the music
And pats his foot
With his one good leg
Music playing in his head
Listening to the mournful sound
of an old blues singer
Pours a big cup of coffee
Burns as he puts it to his very
Cracked and very dry lips
Helps him wash down
A very small breakfast

Helps him get ready
To wander over to
His window
Welcome the morning sun
As it lights up the morning sky
Because the old man at his age
Ain't got much else
To look forward to
When morning comes