On Timor Street

On a Sunday in August in late Winter in the City of Warrnambool
The sun hidden in the gray sky on an evening calm and cool
On Timor Street i met an aging man walking with the aid of a walking frame
He seemed rather frail though happy just the same

One i know by sight and to say good day to but not by name
With very poor balance he walks rather lame
Of any sadness in his countenance there was not any trace
He stopped for a brief chat with a smile on his face

He said such a nice evening despite the sunless sky
And when i asked him had he far to walk he said i live nearby
Of anything i am one who never goes in need
I must have been born to be lucky quite lucky indeed

A pale gray haired man who doubtless does live with a lot of physical pain
Yet despite this he seems content and not one to complain
One could understand if to sadness he was inclined
It is true about happiness it can be a state of mind

On parting he smiled and wished me a good day
As along the quiet street he slowly shuffled on his way
One in life who feels he is lucky though he cannot walk aid free
As a person he is far greater than me.