Dizzy

Not sure when but he just showed up one day, said his name was Dizzy and he had a hilarious way; his walking was a leisurely stroll and ramble, it seemed he was in no rush with his amble. Oh, yes that stroll was a happy light-footed ballet, he wore a jean jacket with a pocket of tattered cards; was he a gambler, a drunk in decay? Dizzy was white haired and tanned from the sun, he was a solitary guy who played solitaire for fun; smiled hello to all who came his way- seemed content, happy in his existence though he had not a cent. I spoke to him daily but he was a puzzling one, he had character and spirit, mystique, and style; he was a puzzle, maybe he was on the run? Dizzy must be a son, a brother or a father gone, maybe he was just a fast smooth talking con; I asked him one day if he had a home, he said no laughing that he liked to roam. No matter the weather he came along at dawn, Dizzy is our sweet neighborhood homeless guy; often, seen in the park feeding a swan. ___________________________ August 26, 2019 Poetry/Rhyme/Dizzy Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1176-057-02 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Written for the contest, Bring A Character to Life sponsor, Richard Lamoureux Fourth Place