Old man, India: photo by Glenn Losack MD, 17 December 2011
To this man, to his boned shoulders
Came the descent of pain.
Cruel, blind, dear, horrid, hallowed,
Rained, again, again.
To this small white blind boned face,
Wherever it was,
The blows of pain, it took as it were blinded,
As it were made for this.
We were there. We uneasy
Did not know if it were.
The reason nor the man nor whether
To share, or to beware.