Don Poem by Jerry Behr Number 2

Through my computer room window I can see the
walkway, one of a labyrinth of walkways where I live.
Across the walkway lives my next door neighbor Don,
a fellow in his eighties who lives on his own.

He’s a gentle old soul; the years are catching up with
him as his body creaks and groans as he
walks with his walking stick.
Don has emphysema and a wheezing fit.

Don does have family, three elderly sisters come and
see how he is doing during the week. Don asked my
wife and I to keep an eye out because he lives alone.
“By opening his blinds then all is well so don’t phone

my sister Jenny just yet, I like to sit on the step of my
front porch and sit in the sun because it is so cold in
winter. It’s so nice and warm in the sun.” He would say
basking in the sun feeling the sun’s warm ray.

There is camaraderie between him and I, we both
walk with walking sticks and our bodies do groan so
either with infliction or old age
However, I’m younger at this stage.
10/7/09