99poems/oldman

An old man
sits in the bookstore
with his cane leaned
against his lap.
He does not read
as the rest of us
do, the gray-haired
woman in red flats,
the two young boys
in baggy, ripped jeans
intent on their magazines.
He stares out into
the room, or somewhere,
with an expression
I cannot accurately
portray,
I want to think he is
content, listening
to the music.
I am fatigued
and emotional
today,
looking at him
makes me
want to cry.
As does the
relief I feel
when his wife
shows up,
two books
in her hand.

5/6/99