Somewhere in Ukraine
 
a plum tree is blossoming
 
in a dead man’s yard.

 
 
 

First day of April—
 
an old man and his spaniel
 
hobble through the park.

 
 
 

November morning—
 
an old man walks through the park,
 
greeting all the dogs.

 
 
 

Warm summer evening—
 
behind the sleazy motel
 
a homeless man sleeps.

 
 
 

blooming just in time
 
for the old man’s funeral—
 
his wife’s hollyhocks

 
 
 

First day of summer—
 
an old man hopes his grandson
 
will bring some ice cream.

 
 
 

In the oak tree’s shade
 
a homeless man and his dog
 
take a midday nap.

 

 
 
 

On his homeward way
 
an old man trudges slowly,
 
weighed down by spring rain.

 

 
 
 

April afternoon—
 
an old man blowing smoke rings
 
makes some children laugh.

 

 
 
 

On the old stone bridge
 
one man waits for another
 
in the pouring rain.