Virginia Lee Burton
It’s all in there, a blueprint
for living, my sacred text
perfect replacement for a world
of tired hotel Gideon’s, this tale
of a plucky fellow with an Irish
surname, unencumbered, set free
to roam at will, picking up work here
and there, more hedgehog than fox, a man
who did one thing and did it well. He
wrestled with private doubts in the dark,
stretched out on top of Mary Anne,
the nights warm and clear, sky smeared
with stars, a man who knew how to
back up a claim, take a risk, court failure
and humiliation at the bottom of a deep,
perfectly excised hole, all four corners
neat and square. My idea of a perfect ending,
a second chance, a mulligan, quietly tending
the boiler with a pipe and a good book,
waiting for you and your homemade pie.