I saw him today, just a glimpse;
Curly brown hair turned grey
brought back long ago nights
behind Grandma’s green curtains
where moth ball cushions
fought small sparring shadows
as behind that lush brocade
sandwiches curled,
a voice demanded,
‘Eat your crusts!’
Frightened, they scurried away
like limp bendy sticks
to hide inside crumb filled pockets