the blueberry man

he just isn't the type
you can forget
you see
his beard
was much too white
he's eyes
much too kind
he tried to seem gruff
but to me
he wasn't
he always looked the same
except he changed
when his wife
became sick
he seemed to be sad
more tired
a little
older
and before i knew it
he was gone
his wife joined him
months later
the countless days
the many many decades
that they had spent together
and one had to wait
he's the blueberry man
you see
his pipe smelled of sweet smoke
the blueberries tasted of his care
blueberries aren't the same anymore
because the blueberry man
is gone

true story - true human - real man - real friend

plus real feelings = this poem