The Ancient Man - Part I I Poem by Greg Davidson

From the stand of trees he came,
As he did on every fall.
He walked along the well worn path,
And past the dry stone wall.

Past Jack, collecting apples,
That had fallen from the trees,
While Sean was sitting by the gate,
His head upon his knees.

The twitter of the robins' song,
The hum of honey bees,
And the hint of lavender,
All carried on the breeze.

The old man walked up to the gate
Without a word to say.
He offered Sean a loving hand,
And then quietly walked away.

His mother gave an anguished cry
And hurried to the gate.
Having reached the path she stopped,
She knew full well his fate.

She knew as well twelve years ago,
A covenant was made,
And now 'twas clear the time had come
For the debt to be repaid.