Remember that day with us at the park,
When you bought me ice cream
And I traced our initials on tree bark?
Curled up on a tartan blanket, we schemed
Immortal pirates plotting timeless treasure map.
But all was not what it would seem;
The clock ticked on like a timed trap.
You sighed as you laid your head on my lap
Musing on sunlight stealing through leaves on my smile,
Our music the sound of children laughter on a rattletrap.
Your kisses and touch chaste all the while.
The hours languidly flowed into time.
That day is gone but you are still mine.
I anticipate the sun;
His bright red face
the dark night of
He’ll pucker up
then blow away
on my belly.
I’ll return home.
[Photo courtesy Chris Frosin]
Met Old Scratch the other day–was thinking of trading in for something better–Had been dreaming about it far too much– Had been feeling a little left behind by all my contemporaries and such. So there I went to see Old Sratch there at The Crossroads.
He strutted over. You know that walk– Smiling all friendly and happy to see me. We joked a bit. He put me at ease– wanted to know what would make me happy– how HE might make ME happy–Had the conversation about fame and glory as we walked around the lot.
Then it all went dark–cloud blocked the sun…or maybe it was the moon…and Old Scratch, he looked at me and I looked at him. I said that I would quite like to see my self having fame…having glory…
But Old Scratch looked into my eyes and sucked in air through his teeth– the way builders do when they are pricing up– then he shook his head and asked if the soul I had to trade was all I had.
It’s a good soul. Yeah it’s been around the block a bit but it’s still got a lot of juice left, I said. But the most Old Scratch could offer was a few more followers on all my social networks.
I was more than a little disappointed. So I said I’d think it over some– I walked away and went to the coffee shop instead to scribble in my little book and look out the window.
It’s a nice little soul. Worth a bit more than what was offered. A collectible, really– and it’s mine.