Refraction.

Won't See Another One

The old man in the café
Sat all alone, with a coffee
And a cupcake.
His hands shook so terribly
That he couldn't open the sugar sachet,
So I asked if I could help him.
He dredged up a smile,
Said that he had faith in the youth of today;
That to remain kind throughout the years
Was no mean feat,
But he believed in me.
So I passed him his sugar
And asked him his name.
We spoke for a while, and he told me
That this was his annual treat
As it was his birthday,
The one time he came to the café each year.
"I may as well treat myself," he said,
"for I won't see another one",
Then he thanked me, said goodbye
And left to the chimes of the bell above the door.
His silhouette disappeared into the
Hazy morning dew,
And whilst it had been his day to celebrate,
I found that his words were the greatest gift.
Kindness and care are easy to spread.
And I suppose he was right,
For I returned to the café in a year, to the day,
And the man was nowhere to be seen.
He hadn't been around to see another birthday,
No cupcake in solitude, no sugar sachets.
I remember his face, and I like to think
That he has gone to someplace
Where his hands no longer shake;
Where his smile shines like the light of day
As he realises
That he has inspired me to cling
To my kindness no matter how many years may pass.