Old man

i used to go
visit him
nearly every week
i still do
sometimes
he is always there
trying to solve
the mystery of those wires
while his dog
olympia
always distracted by fleet
of beloved strangers
who she would love
as her own
just like the old man.

the food used to
feed my hunger
his music took care
of my soul
the mellow soft rhythm
of his keyboard
usually made up
for his
old, fading out voice.

while entertaining the dog
i asked him
questions
that were never raised
sometimes his daughter
spoke
for him
and i kept looking at him
listening closely
to her words
as they breached through
the flow of
dusky wind
quite easily.

his fingers
still showing the passion
worked their way
through the Beatles masterpiece
his eyes closed
lost in
some other world
of peace and serenity
the calm on his face
said it all.

there was
no need of answers
anymore.

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