OLD EYES

I went to the store today
and ran into an older fellow
he said hi and I said hey
his voice was low and very mellow

As I held the door open
our eyes met for the shortest time
then slid off, as do most men
( as if connecting were a crime)

He shuffled off, I went on by
in a rush as seems my way
to buy some chicken I could fry
( you know, his eyes were almost gray)

I got my stuff and headed home
that old man's eyes still on my mind
what had they seen in his long tome
had his fate been cruel or mostly kind?

If mid-Depression was his birth
was he a town or country kid?
Did his family cope by using mirth?
Was childhood home put up for bid?

I wondered did he ever marry?
Did war require he leave his wife?
How many buddies did he bury?
How often did me take a life?

His eyes held no hint of cruelty,
those faded orbs, wrinkle surrounded.
Did he serve in army or at sea
when bullets flew and mortars pounded?

Yet those eyes still held a glint
with a touch of love and humor
and even more than just a hint
of enjoying a good rumor.

I still wonder what those eyes had seen
what sights had shaped that frail old guy;
how many people had he been
and why is it I wonder why?