I was at Costco

Just the other day

Went to the food court

And got a tray


Got my fries

And found a seat

Just sat down

Was about to eat


When this little old man

Came shuffling by

He’d shuffle a bit

Then give a sigh


Shuffle some more

Then look around

Like he was hiding

Something he’d found


His big, sparkly eyes

Would shift back and fro

As if unsure

Where he had to go


Shiny and bald

Was the top of his head

And it leaned down

As if heavy, like lead


His shoulders and back

Were bent over as well

His pants were too big

It was easy to tell


As he passed by each light

His head, would glow

And the hairs by his ear

Became white, like snow


One hand held the other

In front of his waist

And sometimes he’d rub them

Like he was, in haste


He’d shift his eyes quickly

And keep shuffling along

Then quickly look down

Like he’d done something wrong


He shuffled up

To an empty table

But didn’t sit down

He wasn’t able


Put his hands on the top

To hold himself up

And looked all around

Like a poor, lost, pup


He stood there and waited

Didn’t make a move

His eyes always shifting

As if, in a groove


His lower lip quivered

As his eyes, tried to find

Something he’d forgotten

Or just left behind


And then he perked up

As a young man came close

He lifted his hand

And tapped on his nose


Just like a little puppy

He seemed so excited

His face seemed aglow

He was delighted


The young man brought chicken

With fries, on the side

Set them down on the table

And then turned wide


With a wave of his hand

Showed the old man to sit

While he walked away

Something to get


With his eyes twinkling

The old man sat down

But didn’t touch the food

Just,  looked all around


The young man came back

With napkins in hand

The old man then smiled

It seemed just grand


He gazed at the young man

Then back to the food

But didn’t touch it, as if

Unsure he could


The young man gestured

For the old man to eat

The old man was tickled

It seemed quite the treat


He rubbed his hands together

And quickly reached out

But then couldn’t pick

Like he was in doubt


He looked at the food

Then back at the man

As if he was saying

Are you sure, that I can


So the young man reached over

A piece of chicken he picked

Showed it to the old man

And then he dipped


He took a big bite

And motioned to the old man

Nodded his head

As if saying, yes you can


The old man took some chicken

And then slowly dipped

Checking each time

So it wouldn’t drip


Such tiny bites

So carefully chewed

Always looking around

As not to be rude


He wiped his lips with a napkin

After each piece he ate

His eyes always dancing

As if he was late


He smiled at the young man

And nodded his head

I couldn’t hear them talking

So know not, what was said


Once they were done

As much, as he was able

He used his napkin

To clean off the table


Then he looked up

With such grateful eyes

It seemed as though

He’d won a big prize


The old man shuffled over

Gave the young man a hug

Then let him go

And gave a big shrug


The young man put his arm

On the old man’s shoulder

It was the younger

Holding the older


As they both

Shuffled their way out

I thought to myself

What was this, all about


An old man and his son?

Spending some time

Having something to eat

On the young man’s dime


And that’s how it was

How life, had progressed

Now the younger, helped the older

And who would have guessed


Once, the younger was childish

But the older, helped him mature

Now the older, seemed childish

Needed the younger, for sure


Just a few years before

It seems, somehow perverse

The older, helped the younger

And not, the reverse

DISCLAIMER – Any seniors portrayed are all fictitious

                      Any resemblance, is purely malicious

                      And for old people, living or dead

                      It’s plainly apparent, as I have said


                      The author took liberties, with the chronology

                      But for this, there is no apology

                      This story is based, purely on fact

                      Because it’s how, old people act


                      No elders were hurt, in its making

                      Most of them, were already aching

                      As for the oldie portrayed, we didn’t know em

                      At least in the case, of this here boem              

BOEMS by JA 92    

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