Park bench.
Second on the left.
Under the Horse chestnut.
He sits.
Waits.
Breathes.
Glimpses of the past
Flicker across his pupils.
An album of time
Drained away.
Funny how it slips.
A home is not a structure.
It's human.
Flesh and bone.
Two children.
A wife.
Lost to him now.
Now you see them,
Now you don't.
A cruel trick.
"That's magic!"
The man on tv used to saw
Debbie in two.
His family were consumed
By the bottle.
Impressive.
YOU ARE READING
Dirty Old Man
PoetryA story in poem form. The man who had everything has lost it all, but how? Is the story the same from the other side?
