It's Still Life

Those Telltale Signs

I glance over at him,

a man of increasing years and greyness,
his hair, his shirt, his trousers, his skin,
folds like ditches on his earlobes.

He bends over, one hand steadied
on a shopping trolley,
reading the Sell-By dates,

and blocking my way
to the strawberries.

I wait.
I have more time than he does.

AI Digital Art is mine and created using Midjourney’s bot (v4). Image and poem ©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #amwriting @midjourney