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Tender Tom

Tender Tom took me out to lunch. 

"My treat," he sweetly said as we ordered something to eat and took a seat.

He spoke to me of many things. Things of beauty and love, things of this world and things of the other. Things of the past, things of the present. Things that mattered to him and things that mattered to me.

He spoke of his dead sister and how she has never left him and how she still stays in the house where he lives.

He laughed as he asked me about my chickens and how I didn't know what kind they were.

We spoke of past loves and men in our lives and how tender and tragic true love could be.

I made a special friend in tender Tom that afternoon. 

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