The Old Man...8-21-1998
The poem that follows is a little over 14 years old and is still one of my favorite things that I have written. I wrote it after hiking on the New Jersey side of the Delaware Water Gap. As I sat on the rocks at the top of the mountain, I heard and then saw two bald eagles flying overhead. I watched them for about ten minutes and then they were gone. It was the first time I had seen bald eagles in the wild and it was truly something to see and to remember. When I got home, I sat down and wrote this poem. I hope you will enjoy it. It does have special meanings to me.
The Old Man...
I come to this mountain a lot to hike and look around.
Sometimes I bring my children and sometimes even my wife.
But this time I have come alone, just to enjoy what the mountain may give.
It is cold and a lite snow is falling as I start up the trail to the top.
I will stop a few times at the overlooks and wonder at the beauty I see.
And before I know what happen, I am standing on the top.
His body is bend with age and the cold. His face all wrinkled and tried.
I sit down and say hi to him but he just stares with that blank look on his face.
I started talking to him as he stared out into space, cause it looked like he could use a friend.
I told him how I loved this mountain and how I liked bring my family here.
How once I had seen two bald eagles dancing on the wind way up high.
Slowly he started talking but he never did stop that stare.
He told me how his wife loved this mountain and of the hours they had spent here.
He spoke of the day men with guns came. How they killed his wife and let her body lay.
His whole world had ended that day. He no longer wanted to go on.
But he said my words had moved him. Had lifted his heart and mind.
He knew he must let his spirit soar, to carry on for her.
I turned away so he could not see my face. To see the tears that had started to fall.
Then I heard the cry and I saw the bird.
One lone bald eagle now soared through the sky.
I turned back to show him but no longer was he there.
In his place one lone feather, like the ones on the bird in the air.
The Old Man...
I come to this mountain a lot to hike and look around.
Sometimes I bring my children and sometimes even my wife.
But this time I have come alone, just to enjoy what the mountain may give.
It is cold and a lite snow is falling as I start up the trail to the top.
I will stop a few times at the overlooks and wonder at the beauty I see.
And before I know what happen, I am standing on the top.
His body is bend with age and the cold. His face all wrinkled and tried.
I sit down and say hi to him but he just stares with that blank look on his face.
I started talking to him as he stared out into space, cause it looked like he could use a friend.
I told him how I loved this mountain and how I liked bring my family here.
How once I had seen two bald eagles dancing on the wind way up high.
Slowly he started talking but he never did stop that stare.
He told me how his wife loved this mountain and of the hours they had spent here.
He spoke of the day men with guns came. How they killed his wife and let her body lay.
His whole world had ended that day. He no longer wanted to go on.
But he said my words had moved him. Had lifted his heart and mind.
He knew he must let his spirit soar, to carry on for her.
I turned away so he could not see my face. To see the tears that had started to fall.
Then I heard the cry and I saw the bird.
One lone bald eagle now soared through the sky.
I turned back to show him but no longer was he there.
In his place one lone feather, like the ones on the bird in the air.