Late On A Cold Winter Day

I was late for my own funeral today
and no one had anything to say
So I sat next to an old man on a faded wooden bench by the cemetery gate
He was feeding birds and squirrels
With no love and certainly no hate
He had a bag of mixed fruits and nuts
In his shaking hands
With lots of scars and a few deep cuts
The animals were ungrateful and were asking for stale crumbled bread instead
He was mumbling and yet holding his diminishing breath
It was a cold, gray winter day
With lots of clouds lingering
And a misty rain on the way
I asked him a few questions
But I couldn't hear all of his answers
I asked him if he was lonely
He looked up to the sky once and said
I wish I had kissed
My best friend goodbye, I'm so sad
She was the love of my life,
My companion, my beautiful wife
I whispered in his ear
Take my hand, have no fear
We shall soon meet her here
It was a cold winter day
The old man and I were
Finally on our way