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THE BAG MAN

When we first moved in here,
there was a bag man,
well, an old age pensioner,
who passed by the building every day,
carrying a white plastic bag,
stopping occasionally
to rest on a bench;
he was to be seen so regularly
that one looked out for him.

Until the day he didn't come;
then of a sudden,
we felt concerned,
although we never knew who he was,
he was a part of the scenery,
a human element
in the winds and weathers
of an ever changing universe;
and when he was gone,
just like the big old tree,
we missed him. 

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 

Comments

poignant, touching and a little sad how we notice our own un-awarenesses....by absence

Al

I agree with Al this is a poignant piece, we have an old gentleman who used to walk past our house everyday until suddenly we didnt see him anymore, I found out later that he had passed on.

absolutely wonderful poem kudos

love and hugs Jayne-Chloe x

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

Did you see that TVDocumaentary about the girl who was dead for 3 years and no one knew cos she was so alone? It wa also on BBC TV.. Can't remember the title?
Lovely write.
how are you?

No but I did have a neighbour here who was dead a week, she also lived alone and we found out that she had no family either, wish I had known, I could have communicated more with her, but there are over 300 flats here, so it's not easy to know everyone.

Yes there are lonely souls in this world, there was another man we used to see going around Oslo, we saw him sometimes in several paces on the same day. wandering and wandering as a pass time!!!

Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

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