The old man, bent with age and infirmity,
hobbled his way down the narrow road,
one slow step at a time.
The cobblestone sidewalk,
too rough for his fragile frame,
drove him to the street.
Unconcerned about the hovering bus behind
filled with glad-eyed tourists,
he meandered down,
then across the way.
The driver waited.
Cars waited.
Taxis waited.
No horn sounded.
No yelling filled the air.
No fist or finger formed.
Not even a scowl appeared.
You are a patient man, I remarked.
His eyes smiled.
His unshaven face brightened,
I take pills for it.
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Gave me a nice warm feeling. Thank you as always
Robin
I know a few people who would benefit from his ‘pills’.