Ripe Of Age - Poem by Santhosh Vijayakumar
There I saw a man,
Watching the colours of sundown.
His gray hair and senility,
Proved him a veteran of men.
His eyes, half sunk in reflections,
All about his infancy and youth.
Once a child, then a lad,
Then again at the meridian of life,
And now ripe of age.
The sun went down and the dim moon came.
Then he rose with his stick,
And moved to his bed,
Where he laid and waited,
For sleep to come and take over.
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