I Met An Old Man. Poem by Geoffrey Fafard

I met an old man
Sitting on an old bench
On the outskirts of town'
A cold wind was up
He was shivering a little
Ever seen snow turn to ice?
He asked, looking into my eyes
Once I said, only once
Froze a dog dead
Right then and there
That was a lucky dog. he said
Yep said I. Saved him going
Under a bus or in the river
Oh sympathetic aren't you?
Not always… no
Oh you are tuff
His voice white with frost
Whispered softly
Well I will take delight
In not going under one also
He looked at me silently
And died then right there
I just sat and watched death
Silently working on
The principle that I
Want to be like him
Never, not ever
Feeling sorry for myself.