|riverside, Branson, MO|
'Ya'll should go to Eureka Springs,'
says the man by his van, another
hour and a half, after the sixteen
it took to get here, we just met,
when i asked about his Arkansas plates,
being nice, and all
'There's lots of weird people there,'
he doesn't dance well, backs up
as if just discovering the heat
of the as-phalt
'Not weird as in dangerous,
but weird interesting. you'd fit
I leave him dangling on the line,
debate jerk-ing the hook, but
let him off with a grin & he tells me
Ghost Hunters found a full body
apparition - no hoax - lots of antique
'Well, you drive safe,' i shake
his hand & watch them
up the road, my son pedals
over on his bike, 'Do I
really look that weird?'
'Daaaaaaad,' his only answer
as off he goes leaving me
to my sandals---the sun,
side up egg, in the sky,
all popped and runny---
mopped up with toast---savored
with a dash of salt & pepper,
Over at dVerse Poets, we are wringing out the last bit of SUMMER---school starts here on Monday---so pull out you slide projectors & show us your SUMMER....this is one of the lost poems from my Branson trip...any way, see you at 3 pm at dVerse.
PS. I took a job with a school about 35 miles from home, so a little commute. Great team of teachers I am working with though. Kids come back Monday, so should be fun. Smiles.