Scenery

I sat in his living room
amid his collection of souvenirs
from the many travels he had taken,
each collected to prove he had journeyed
even if he couldn’t recall
a single detail about the scenery
of those places he had experienced.

He was just to busy
consumed with the urging to find his haven
the single spot he had no fears,
so he sat, back arched over by arthritis,
feet now suffering from other age caused problems,
unable to remember any place he had encountered.

To some he was successful, accomplished
and a paragon of achievement,
yet I saw a hallow sadness in his eyes,
they conveyed what he would honestly only say
through subtle hints in his conversation
about his regrets over not spending more time
truly discovering the beauty and value
present wherever he had been.