The Old Man

In his younger day's he stood just under six feet tall, strong, handsome,a rugged young farm boy.Now fifty-five years later he stands with the help of a cane.Stooped-over from long days and years of hard farm work.He walks with a slow shuffle,still if watched closely, you can see the remnants of the strength that was there.His gnarled and crooked fingers holding the cane. The skin tanned and leathery like,spotted with age, wrinkled at the knuckles. His shoulders hunched over and back curved form long years of carrying heavy tools and posts to fixing machinery and repairing the barns and house. The face suntanned and leathery like his hands wrinkled and drawn tight but still pleasant and happy.That crafty glint in his eyes knowing that tomorrow would be a better day as he planned his escape.