Day: September 24, 2023

Should I start to count

The fingerprints on my glasses?

The glasses I see through

Or the ones I drink from?

Should I play

A hand of pinochle

With my grandpa,

In the sunroom of his

Manufactured home

In Barefoot Bay,

Thirty years ago?

Once around the neighborhood

On my grandma’s tricycle,

As contentment rises

From each wheel.

A sunny day by the pool,

Playing shuffleboard—

Yeah, that’s the good life!

The balance in a rain drop

On a windshield,

While coasting through the country,

Magnifies my wishful thinking

On a starry night

In wintertime.

So, what’re your thoughts

On the Appalachian Trail,

With fallen leaves on an autumn day?

My guesses get shorter

As I pass through the equinox.

My hints get deeper,

As the wrinkles on my face.

Walking down a flagpole,

The going gets good;

As good as a trampoline

On a clear summer day.

And the Jeep casseroles

Float to the top of the lake,

Where canoe riders can stake

Their claim to a paper plate

At the picnic of hallee-hoos.

Let’s rock to the happy tune

Of Nirvana on the tube.