safe and sound
unattached
he conquered
loneliness
he was born
a quiet scholar
modest
and meticulous
stayed invisible
yet climbed the stairs
always rational
always there
now in old age
without fears
he sits
eating his poached egg
and toast]
sipping his coffee
in the hotel café
and viewing the view
outside
of fluffy snow
on barren trees
with clouds high
and grey
with small holes in them
to show
the sun is still
behind the day
There is so much to read
little things to write
The world is a wonder
He is no longer in the fight
Just an old man
who rightly walked the path to night
When he comes home
and looks in the mirror
he takes off his hat
bows to himself
His whole life's rhythm
was totally right