His clothes had seen
better days, as they say -
Grimy green jacket,
frayed at the cuff and
hole cobble-mended,
suspicious shirt-collar
around his turkey-neck and
tired, spattered
pin-striped trousers
and slippers.
His body had failed
him too, you might say -
Hearing aids whistled
tunelessly, canaries longing to fly free,
Tufts sprouted from
strange places and there was
something in his hair,
mottled hands palsied
as he searched the old book
for the words he wanted.
But ah his voice was rich and beautiful,
clear and strong,
his smile wise and warm, and his mind
as an eagle soared
This is a wonderful word-picture J - very evocative. I love it.
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