NOT TO SAVE THE WORLD
It wasn’t to save the world
but i’d settle for a few
First step
flee frownland
leave the sad swamp
I yelled from the other room
that i was going
I awaited no response
And it took me
to my own
sad scene
though indeed
a majestic lake
of my youth
and maybe my whole being
one and the same
I recognized the property
but had not been up to date
with what they’d done to the place
my welcome wore out
some decades before
I expected the whole new tribe
to be amidst those summer holiday
feasts and festivities
I was wrong
It seemed interim
But there sat the matriarch
Didn’t think i’d be shot on sight
The authorities summoned
perhaps
She was into her long cup
swimming in the goblet
Her interested gaze
cut the fog and the haze
hovering between us
I know you?
she spoke aloud
sending the question off
in all directions
But she didn’t really seem to care
Fetch me some wine, boy
and pour yourself one too
if you so desire
I fulfilled the deed
filling her glass
but i’d brought my own
and now sat sipping
and lit a smoke
She wasn’t my mother
but as close as they come
Wait a minute
she said
You’re…
You held me as a child
but dropped me as an adult
I drained my glass
corked my bottle
and was on my way
Back in the other land
late afternoon
Frownland was no more
I could hear her singing
I could smell something cooking
Somethings are just the way they are
and she’ll never be
a morning person
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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3/20 poems by Captain B
