Before entropy did its devil’s work
I was content keeping time with inertia
Standing on the bridge over the dank concrete river
Carrying garbage from afar to an unknown destination
The small child looked at me with round eyes
Hoping I might trade her pennies for a small candy
The men were full of bravado, passing me tequila in double doses
My wife smiling at me in joy for the expected child sitting placid in her womb
We sat and ate in the cantina too young to appreciate the gravity of the situation
Smiling and hope filled the room in bushels as we laughed
The man asked for fifteen for the blanket but finally accepted ten
It was hand made and wool and very soft and big
I thought its grey was charming and I knew it would keep us warm
And it did; It still keeps her warm today
The sun was bright and the Coronas were less than a dollar
Tasting sticky in the heat it was our last stop before we returned
Crossing over the bridge and the river
Foul with waste destined for a distant home
As you know, I am poetically retarded, but this one struck me. Very nice.
Have you seen the movie “The Good Shepherd”? I found it interesting that the founding head of division C at CIA (counter-intelligence)was a poetry major at Yale.
I have seen the movie and I found that interesting as well. Poetry not being a topic of frequent discourse in today’s world the mention of it was rather striking