I sometimes think of Felix

I sometimes think of Felix
asking who he was,
to be denied an answer.
From the wilderness
he came, wise old man;
(not as old as me today)
but then I was young
could be excused.
Now I understand
need not ask him how.
Old pram and a coat
were all I had to know.
With that old coat
and sharp blue eyes
he had all his needs.
Years in the wilderness
safe in silent solitude,
none to care or be cared
a company he could trust
He had enough,
little more than nothing
which multiplied each day
to less, but still enough,
he got-by;
until one day he didn't call.
Had the wilderness called him?
They are haunting places
few live there, none are fat
lean of mind and soul
a pram, a coat sufficed
when I was young.,
as once a donkey,
many  years ago.
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