August 21, 2010
I looked out my kitchen window
and I saw coming up the road,
an old man in an electric chair
straying not to far from home.
He comes this way most everyday
after making rounds about the town,
to share the news he's gathered -
he starts spreading it around.
He doesn't always get his stories straight
and he never stays too long.
He just lets you know what he thinks he heard
and then he travels on.
He's always in his overalls
with a dirty ole cap upon his head,
and occasionally he'll be wearing
the jelly from his bread.
Sometimes he brings along advice of
to him what just looks wrong.
Sometimes he's just been thinking
or has a job for you to do,
or he tells you 'bout his aches and pains
and complains of his age too.
Perhaps something compells him
to share a story now and then
of something he once did
or places that he's been.
Tears will well up in his eyes
if he speaks about his kids.
Of all the things the years have given him
he hasn't much to show
'cept for the son's and daughter's,
that's one thing that he know's.
Cause, they'll throw their arms around him,
to them he's not so bad,
and he knows they really love him
every time they call him "Dad".
by Susan Holmes