Age

A maniacal determination
Writ large in his face
He walked with focus
And grit
That seemed to fumble
Now and then
His legs didn’t seem comply
Orders from above
Laboured steps and unsteady gait
Tiny strides
Woefully inadequate
To reach the distance
Written on his face

Hands held close to the body
Not letting them sway
Fists clenching and unclenching
With his breath
It felt he might stumble
Then and there
Yet he managed to move ahead
With the proverbial one step at a time

His face was certain
Though eyes betrayed
The anxiety
And fear
That he felt
May be people realised it
Concerned they tried to help
Though he declined forcefully
For he knew where he wanted to go
Though not how
And why
Just that he had to go

Some came near and tried to talk
He turned his face away
And they noticed something
A huge tag hanging around his neck
Which said
Contact on this number
If found
He is old, senile and not well