quaker oats, loaf of bread, groceries against tired feet
the cutest old man i ever met
staring at the same articles & advertisements on the smallest of newspapers
& alternately drifting off, tired head wavering gently to rest on my shoulder

checkered beret with long white beard
suspenders and dress clothes (in which to grocery shop?)
as if it's Eastern Europe in the 1940s
(but last I checked we were just riding the #33 through the Mission)

slight of stature, trembly and exhausted
but clear-eyed, deliberate:
each movement infinitely slow, shaking, intentional

oh shining old one!
do you know how held you are??
how cradled, how beloved!