The Eccentric

He was known as an eccentric; Saving all of those bolts in a bucket and for what? No one really knew, except himself. He kept numerous old jugs and cartons around the house, as if they were valued treasures. Old string and ropes that he’d saved, were tied in numerous knots; each knot, the same distance apart. There were shelves in his garage, sporting old prescription containers, full of small nails and tacks. Old cardboard from laundered shirts, and gardening magazines, stacked high; reeking of must and mildew. No one really understood why he saved everything. His yard, full of buckets, sticks and… old nylon hose, and torn pieces of worn shirts, hung from the rafters in his garden shed. See, he was a crack’in gardener; his tomatoes were staked; tied to the sticks with the old rags and nylons. The buckets, he carried to the neighbors, filled with luscious produce and everyone in the neighborhood, savored, the fruits of his labor, for years on end.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Pandit Avatar
April 2, 2019 at 3:21 PM
The last stanza puts it all together..you depicted him perfectly..he is familiar to many ..and your poem gave him a voice.
Kiser Avatar
April 2, 2019 at 10:33 PM
Good, I meant to. Thanks.
Krutsinger Avatar
April 2, 2019 at 1:27 PM
Ah, I know him, and I called him "Dad". Love this one!
Kiser Avatar
April 2, 2019 at 10:33 PM
Yours too? Yep, it was my Dad. Saved just about everything for the gardening, old hose, milk jugs, holey t-shirts, you name it; he saved it. Thanks
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