Old Man, Old Ways

• Luke Kedacic, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2018

The lights are on in the kitchen, it's another world in there
Pottering pans and steaming pots, table is set for a meal together
Every Sunday is the same, come in the door, climb the wheelchair
Cling to him like he's about to slip away, stare into his eyes
Squeeze him just a second longer
What a time it was seeing him lie there in his bed, the bed he never left
He couldn't in the end, still and lifeless
Imagine the cigarette still in his mouth, his walking cane sits in the corner
It;s ready to be used again, but never for a long time
It'll just sit there, waiting, remembering
I'll remember too, the way it used to be.