Just A Little Old Man

The original form of this was a very short story, but it makes more sense as a poem.

Wrinkled and rusty,

he sits with a yellow star

pressed and faded in his cap.

His smile is toothless

but gentle, silently begging

for the coins in my pocket.

 

Mama says stay away,

he’s Just A Little Old Man

who needs to find a job.

I wonder if she’s seen his hands,

the nut-brown fingers

twisted

and forever covered

in little pink scars

Reviews

[Drea]

I just read Sara's Key and was mortified by the involvement of the French police in working with Hitler's plans for all of Europe.

Your little old man with the faded yellow star reminds the reader that not all who find themselves under the merciless thumb of difficult times, brought them upon themselves.