High tide, high
time for an afternoon spent
chaired, head up and fallen, eyes
open and closed to the fresh list of
life goals: to marry, live surrounded
by nature, spin songs, pluck
poems, to be a good
grandfather

and how best to get there is a
matter of opinion

no sense lame-
nting about the era or
frowning at the tele-
vision that's gone
blind from so many
tears shed over
nonsense, no
senses to eat
out this hollow
mind the fire, you'll
catch cold this
fall to the
leaves