A DIOS

     by Jim Bodeen

Old men on street corners have their place
To sit and watch. A corner, or a rock,
That’s theirs. A new plaza has been built
Overlooking the valley. But the old men

Hold to their places. They are the policemen
Of the village. Children on their way
To school bless the old men
As they go by. To God, the children

Say, passing by. To God.
Many times each day this happens,
This prayer. Oh that someday
I may be worthy of a stone.