The Old Man at Table 4


He sits alone with news paper in hand,

he looks as though an average old man.

Little do you know he sits alone not by choice,

but by necessity.

For the chair across from him

used to seat his wife,

a lovely woman with kind eyes.

Holding hands at the table,

small gestures and a connection so strong

it radiated through the air

like some smooth sweet jazz

the love was sympathetically felt throughout the room.


He clutches that news paper now

because she is not there

and the loving hand that used to embrace his

is no longer there.

The cancer overtook her

before it could take him

and now he awaits the time when he can see her again.

Still every Sunday he comes into my work

And orders coffee just like they used to.

Just like they will again, someday soon.


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