Poetic Discourse

Which was nothing like
the one we had in France
While we were on the river
not the Reine, the other one
It was so damp that day
So we left our seats
To play golf in Scotland
Which was warmer for
that time of year than usual
and the crickets in the back
marsh were up and going
while Lin smoked the croc meat
over the fire we’d put together
the night before last when all
these things we were doing
lined up with nothing else
but we had them done
and then Johnson dropped
the file over the edge of the
canyon was filled with birds
red, blue, yellow, orange, magenta
all blooming at the same time
nothing like it, nothing like it.
she was crooning as we watched,
he had died four years past
but she kept talking to him,
while he was in the kitchen
but never got up to check.
He never came, she didn’t
notice he was gone, or worried
that the barn was going to burn
that he had kicked the lantern over
and now things were alight
he didn’t care anymore
not a whit, not a whim
not at all, his cares were on
board with his love, his vessel
launched for the first time
into that vast unknown ocean
his team, his crew, hand picked
were all bristling with excitement
everyone was eager to
get her under way and off
to the adventure that awaited
though none of it was real
she had dreamed it all
when she was eight
and never let it go
it was still a dream that held her
and she held back for sanity
for hope and love and adventure
that’s what he missed the most
now being over eighty years old
stuck in a nursing home
with nothing to look forward to
but the medicine wagon
and the nurse that was cute
if you glanced really fast
as she left the door open
on her way out of your room.


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