He is a little hunched over
For sure someone’s grandfather and I’m sure a great grandfather also
Pushing a cart laden with many vivid colors
Beautifully laid out
Proud of his beautifully arranged veggies
He had a high pitched whistle as he passed.
To get the attention of his clientele.
I just had to stand on the balcony.
He always saw me.
Waved and smiled.
He waited for the yes or no nod from me.
The no nod he would wave and go on his way whistling,
The yes nod he waited until I descended the stairs.
Many times very slowly
On my bad back days he would bring what I wanted up to me.
He always asked how I was
Asked about my dog Sniffy and gave her a pat when saw her.
Told me what veggies were the best and put what I wanted in a bag.
Some days when I did not have money he would let me pay later
His cart looked so heavy for his old frail looking body
No rubber tires to make it run smoother
or for his old bones to absorb the shock
But I never saw him waver in his pushing
I felt guilty sometimes that I was such a cripple and he with such energy
Rain, Sun and Humidity, It did not matter
Bringing our neighborhood fresh produce
The Old Veggie Man was always there