On a porch of cement and black rod iron poles
In a discarded chair from  many years ago
Quietly he ponders the life he once knew
He thinks of his children and how they grew
He dreams of a wife who is not by his side
But, in his heart, he feels her close by
His days are so long he's nothing to do
So he sits and wishes he could start life anew.
                                              By Connie Hopkins