Come in! Come in!

"If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a Hope-er, a Pray-er, a Magic Bean buyer; if you're a pretender, come sit by my fire. For we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!" -- Shel Silverstein

Friday, October 28, 2016

This morning

Daryl Thetford
He sits there,
alone in his boat
completely unaware

bundled up against the October chill
in his plaid jacket.

He is oblivious to the fact that he is
being watched
as he watches the water

lap against the side of his boat
at the dock in front of his house.

Perhaps it is too cold to take the boat out.
Perhaps the water on the bay is rough this morning.
Perhaps he doesn’t have enough money for fuel.

Perhaps his wife has given him the
stink eye, the
cold shoulder, the
silent treatment
reserved for retired husbands who are
Getting Under Foot.

He’ll be leaving in a few days.
Florida,
where it’s warmer in winter.

Or, always was, until the
Climate Change(d).

He sits there, alone in his boat,
tinkering with this
and that,

trying to avoid the inevitability of
docking the boat for winter.

He is completely unaware that
he is a poem.
Or, at least, 

my poem. 
This morning. 

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