A Man No Longer
Walking
Always there, come rain or shine
Rambling in all weathers
Part of the weekly group
And known to all
Sometimes at the front
Foraging through the footpaths
Sometimes at the rear
Making heavy work
Of climbing over stiles
Or pulling up the final hill
But doing very well
For a man of advanced years
And a long list of medical problems
Appearing hale and hearty
Yet the oldest in the group
Ready to lead or to follow
Boots cleaned anew every time
Gnarled stick in hand
Water bottle in the rucksack
He has no need of maps
Having lived here all his life
And knowing all the pathways
Like the back of his veiny hand
Suddenly a change
And he’s no longer here
Missing at short notice
And a space develops
Between the conversations
Taken away at midnight
A man no longer walking
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