Donald Meikle Poet Iambic Pentameter

For Addie'sman

For Addie who put up with him
Through all those years of scrabble
Who left before he came so grim
And rose above the rabble
He sits and sips in friendly bars
Filling napkins with his life
I read them later under stars
A  thin worn blade of knife
Reminiscing ever missing
Addie’s gentle hold
Trying to point the way along
To other wayward old
And though I didn’t know you then
I’ll take the time t’ thank you Glen
For sharing that’s been told

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