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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353694" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Ode to Greybeard</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353694" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">After leaving the convenience store, we smoked cigarettes insatiately, and were approached by a man with a long grey face, pink from the chilled wind. <br>Homeless, the man made due with a pile of jackets.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353694" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Spare a cigarette? He asked, like clockwork. And received what he bade for. <br>Without breaking his sight of his caretaker's eyes, he bit the filter out of the end and inhaled so deeply, he must have drank the smoke. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353694" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Thanks, pal - crept out from under his mustache and snuck by his cigarette. <br>His eyes turned slowly to meet mine and were as grey as his beard.<br>- Remember me when I die</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353694" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He spoke also - with his eyes. <br>And mine spoke back - he knew I would <br>A legacy is only memory.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=C.S.+Smith">C.S. Smith</a></strong></div>

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