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
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