They were old, or seemed so
to a twenty-three-year-old bank manager
who spent time guiding them through
the door, through the new account paperwork,
through financial decisions they
were ill prepared to make, knowing
they were there not only because
my branch office was close to home,
but for the free gifts they would get
for opening a new account.
They were old, or seemed so,
but they were remarkably adept
at calculating how many different
accounts they could open, each
with the minimum required deposit
to maximize the number of items
they could claim for their efforts,
and the number of trips it would
take them to get their haul home.
I was young then, I am old now
and thankful that banks today will
take my money and offer little
even by way of interest in return.