The Hermit

Old Man watching TV by

(Dedicated to John, and all the “All the Lonely People”, as the Beatles sang on).

By all appearance, he was an ordinary man.
On weekdays he would leave for work
by eight a.m. and be home just after seven.

The curtains were always drawn
so the neighbors could only see the T.V. glow,
which always went off at twelve.

On weekends he stayed at home.
Always alone, always with the T.V. on.
He never had guests, no friends or family.

As a mail clerk, no one talked to him at work.
Nor did he ever attempt to talk to anyone.
Some say that he didn’t even own a phone.

I really don’t know. I never talked to him.
Although, he lived next door.

He died of an unknown or natural cause.
There was no funeral.



Filed under Poems

3 responses to “The Hermit

  1. Melody J Haislip

    Oh, Dean, that’s so unutterably sad. Perhaps someone could have loved him, been his friend, if only he’d let anyone that close. “Eleanor Rigby” is one of my favorite Beatles’ songs. John was a gregarious man, and I’ve heard he had a brother who lives here, so I hope there was some kind of service. Had I known, I would have gone, as would several of my friends who knew him. I didn’t know any other way to honor him than to write my story. I hope he would have enjoyed it.
    Thank you for your very kind act. It means a lot to me.

  2. Wow, Dean, This was very thought provoking.

  3. Dani Heart

    Kind of sad huh? Well done.

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