The Old Man The Society August 19, 2012 Poetry A hunchbacked man, at least a hundred years old Hobbles by as I wait for the train, I brace for the inevitable sharp pain, When his grotesque odor will soon take hold, But, to my surprise, instead, the proud bold Smell of a rich cologne reaches my brain And I am left feeling dumb to complain About something that never did unfold. Now, he passes me almost every day; I get the feeling he’s more rock than man, A symbol of how time’s long river can Sculpt the hardest earth on its endless way. The train arrives and I am left to think: When I’m that old, shall I be rock or stink? -Evan Mantyk Bio: Evan Mantyk is a newspaper editor, writer, and poet living in Harrison, New York. He is president of the Society of Classical Poets. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.