Why am I here?

I am here
because Colin
persuaded me.

So now it is up to someone
else to dissuade me.

Today's blog is about my neighbour
ten floors up. We met on the bench
outside. He visited his uncle's grave
the other day.

My neighbour is 75.
A union boss. Keeps up
with the news, keeps fit, dresses
cool and casual.

He only draws the line
at learning how to go
on the Internet.

All those years he lived
with his uncle who brought
him up,
my neighbour called him
The Old Man.

It seemed the right description
for a bent man
in mothballed cheviot suits
on Sundays.

Looking at the grave-stone, he was struck
by the inscription
under cross and name. That
Old Old Man
had died
at 68.

Aisha