Old Aching Bones

old black manHe caught my attention
and stared back at me –
with beads of gray hair
(outlining his face)
and an emergence of wrinkles
(aging his grace.)
He had a cane by his side
as he rocked in his chair
humming the sounds
of all years gone by.

His rugged hands
explained his sacrifice
as he has overcome many years
of hard work, without cowardice.
His hearing has faded
(no more sounds of despair)
and his eyes has lost vision
(no more sights of fear).

Age has invaded him
and his bones are now weak.
A forgotten figure
(Sitting still in place)
with all his stories told
(by each expression on his face.)

All his triumph
has caused each aching bone;
this reflection I see
is a transformation of him
looking back at the person I shall be.

He caught my attention
and stared back to me –
an aged clone
          with old aching bones.

Tarringo T Vaughan

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