Rules Poem by Dorsey Baker

He sits out back
on the patio
in his favorite
patio chair
he slowly
lifts himself up
and then
his tired
old body pulls itself
back down again
he watches the trees
as the wind makes them
move
in a slow swaying motion
time for reflection

he thinks
all the good moves
all the blunders
they just seem to
blend together

they told him
he shouldn't smoke
but he lights another cigar
and flicks
an ash or two upon
the patio floor
saying to himself
rules are for young
folks to follow
but old folks
they can break
one or two!