I didn’t know it at the time,
but my misspent youth was planned

          The training ground for what I’d write,
then hard to understand

The many schools, the teachers chides,
expulsions my reward

Postgraduate work for future truth,
all voices untoward

The risks were high, survival mined,
Shangi-La, a vagrant’s room

My pen disclaimed, all actions shamed,
flat broke one afternoon

From the diner’s window I heard the song
that turned my life around

As Gregg Allman sang ‘Melissa,’
my true destiny was found

And today I harbor no regrets,
there’s no one left to blame

As I write the words for me hard one
—my sinful past reclaimed

(Strafford Pennsylvania: July, 2019)
    ‘Thank You, Gregg—I Miss You’