Old Man Millay
Kim Delledonne
The music came forth from the white painted bandstand,
and clusters of picknickers dotted the lawn;
Children were chasing each other, and laughing
at Old Man Millay, who sat all alone.
Colorful kites filled the sky with their prancing,
while revelers twirled to the sounds of the day;
Families shared lunches from overstuffed baskets,
but nothing was offered to Old Man Millay.
A chill called for sweathers as dusk settled slowly,
and shouts calling children and pets filled the air;
Then baskets and blankets were packed into autos —
and Old Man Millay slumped down in his chair.
The bandstand stood empty, its music a memory,
yet no one considered how Old Man Millay fared;
They found him next morning, still slumped over, frozen,
the old man had left them, but nobody cared.
|
