The old man’s attempts
To disguise his hobble
Are of no avail. He
Eyes with weak eyes
Each shadow and tries
To make his stick
Pound the pavement
With more force than
He any longer has.
A keening sound hounds
Him from time to time.
Is someone out there
Or is it an aberrant noise
From his hearing aid?
He shines a light
Beyond, fearful he’ll
Trip on a raised piece
Of concrete. Would
He be able to get back up,
Or would the shadows
Get him before he did?
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