To the old man who once lived next door,

I remember how a van would pull up in front of your house
grandchildren maybe?

I strangely miss that because just now as i listen to music and shade in my drawing
I see a white truck pull up next door
visiting the new neighbors.

How are you sir,
where are you,
are you still with your family,
or a nursing home,
is there, in fact, a heaven up above?
and if so
shall I see you there?

I know it’s been years but,

To the old man who once lived next door
you helped shape my childhood.

To the old man who once lived next door
I also miss the tree that once lived in your front yard.

To the old man who once lived next door
perhaps that was the tree of life.