Uncle Milty and Me

UNCLE MILTY AND ME Uncle Milty, A compact man, Not really my uncle, More a close friend of my parents, Drove a New York City cab. He had no kids and A wife who didn’t smile. When they visited, My mother’s pot roast, Served with little white potatoes And yellow corn, Prepared only for special guests, Made Uncle Milty smile. After dinner He waved me closer and I could smell the cigars in his shirt pocket. I believed him when he cautioned me, Catfish are really baby sharks, He had no reason to lie. Then, he gave me a quarter, Told me to buy some candy. I think he wanted one of us To be happy.