The suits of old men

Olive shirt,
Dark green trousers
Jacket, brown tie

In this heat?

He hobbles towards me
Clack, clack, clack
Perhaps it’s a war wound

‘Not all of them’
The words ring in my head
Its how I was raised

I smile at him

Welcomed
He smiles back
The twinkle in his eye

Not gone yet

What does that twinkle mean
Cleavage
I don’t know

Him

What if to somebody
He is him
The one who did

It.

It could be so many things
A grope in the dark
An unwanted hand on the shoulder

Or worse

How can I know
Blue suit, Brown suit,
Grey suit, suited

In this heat?

Did he take photographs when no one knew
Put them all round the office
Was it him?

Once

Did he court Judy
Then marry Jane.
I am still smiling

Clack, clack, clack

He is getting closer
I want to turn away.
To yell and scream and throw things

For her sake

But its like armour
That formal attire
The suits of old men

In this heat?

Its how I was raised
I have no defence

I have no evidence

I doubt

And he,
He walks on by
Unmolested, unchanged,

Uncharged

And me,
Me, I walk on
I am undone, unstilled

Unsated.

By the suits of old men.