I’d walked down to the lake
to get a bit of sunshine
to escape the chill
and the shade
of my thoughts
yesterday, he was there as well–
Moses
he’d stumbled down the sandy mount
a bottle-cap-litter beach
the debris
of stone’s hard-will
broken, by tides
never wearying
he’d been carrying
a forty-ounce beer
oblivious of onlookers
he walked knee-deep
into the green water
shouting unintelligibly
the lake painted a wavy mockery
of his inverted reflection
he raised his beer can
up
toasting a cloudless sky
and he tilted his head back
as he baptized himself
with the last drops
of God’s wishes
late summer’s sunshine
glistened
upon tilted tin
falling backwards
into the lake
arms outstretched
all was quiet again
but for a bit of drunken splashing
forgiveness comes in tall cans
these days
but it’s spent quickly
its lingering taste–
bitter-metal nihility
today
he’d been talking
to himself
on the small beach
his long, white beard whipped
and billowed
lifting in the breeze
as he muttered
I hadn’t thought much of it
we all talk to ourselves
sometimes
and some of us
write poems
instead
One of countless summer-camping poems. I’m done with winter. It can leave now.
Makes me want to go camping. And I’m done with winter too. I went slip sliding in my car yesterday on the icy road. Not a ride I’d like to do again. So done.
Hope you’re alright.. I could see you as a camper, Vic. Not everyone is. Maybe I’ll post a campfire poem tonight to warm my winter-chilled soul.
I’m good, thanks. Just scared me. I loved camping as a kid but haven’t gone in a while. I’d love to read a campfire poem. ?
I found something else, slightly campfire-ish while looking for one. I’ll post one tonight tho.
Great! ?
“…he baptized himself
with the last drops
of God’s wishes…”
That God can wish!
They call it nectar of the gods, tho I’m not certain they’d meant Pabst. Tho not all gods are finicky.. at least I like to imagine so.
Nice piece.
Thank you. I appreciate you reading this.
You are very welcome.