Dr Mccrory

The old man sat on a bar stool all alone. Acting like a king holding court on his throne. While most patrons sat absorbed in their phones; He spoke to any and all in cheerful tones. I perked up my ears to have myself a listen; Seems the old guy was a retired physician. Seeking to learn more about his profession; I buy him a beer and his eyes they glisten; He turns on his stool and thanks me profusely. Beckons me closer, then banters on loosely. His eyes look me over, though somewhat obtusely. As he pauses his tale, I ask intrusively; Tell me about your most interesting case. “Sorry!” say I, as puzzled look creases his face. “No worries mate.” As his mind begins to retrace; Suddenly a saga begins at rapid pace. I hear his life story in all its glory. Some of it grand and much of it gory. I can’t help but think it an allegory. I even learn his name, Shamus McCrory. Listening to all his remembering when; I garnered this one simply amazing gem. He spoke not once of any “It might have been” The four saddest words of man’s tongue or pen. 10/15/2019 Give Me Your Best New Poem Emile Pinet