And Today... Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

I could see him from the height.
he leaned on the walking stick.

he sat now calmly, looking straight ahead.
signs of suffering on him illness dug.
it changed the profile.

the silver of hair,
is glittering in the sun.
and eyes lost former brilliance.
socialite at large,

to the wooden bench accustomed.
he is sitting and he recalls
pretended hunts, and times,
when the saying fit him:

only I am...I,
and then... I,
and farther... also I!

and today he counts on days...
when more lightly is breathing...