Roy

A Merchant Marine At fifteen, he went to sea A way to begin Harsh Realities Learning to be a real man Life was on the run Scrapes and falls and bumps Toughening the young fledgling Losing some feathers A long way from home He creates identity Memory soon fades Glipses of the past Filtering through the sunlight Illusions of life Like dust collecting Every surface is covered Every thumbprint counts Opening new views Just for a moment to smile Tears too, can release As an old man now, At odds with modernity Trust or suspicion? The doorbell rings now His only friends, the roaches He opens the door A bright face looks in "I've come to clean up today" "Why?", he clearly asks "Exterminators" Surely, they must have some rights? "Tomorrow", she says "Will you have some tea? Nodding her head, she goes in Cautiously, sitting The dusty, white chair By the table piled with books Classical relics A cup is wiped clean The kettle is on the stove A tin is offered Inside, a real mix Crumpled bills and Lemon Creams A small roach appears A blue note is taped On the refrigerator "Remember, I am stupid" A Merchant Marine Waiting out his days alone Not a way to end