A Very Good Poem

I feel certain I wrote a very good poem.

It does not rhyme.

Why should it?

It may be a bit obtuse,

which encourages the reader to think.

It’s not likely to be very long, so that

It may hold the reader’s limited attention span.

Sadly, I can’t recall its name.

Certainly it is among my first 1,000 efforts.

Odds are the title begins with an “A” or a “T”.

I implore all those who have read my work

to advise me as to the title or nature

of this very good poem.

Choices

Eight people were lined up for elevator one.

The second elevator had no queue.

I created a new line at elevator two.

It was only when the second elevator arrived first,

With room for all nine of us,

That I stopped to consider:

What if all of those people had understood

The propriety of queuing,

And the superior claim of the earlier arrivals?

My Brooklyn understanding

Of the situation demanded

I go for the shorter line.

Had I outfoxed no one?

Could all eight have anticipated

Boarding whichever elevator came first?

If so, what did that make me?

The first to board!!!

Slowing Done

It was now an illegal event,

Rose and I on the “no dogs allowed” beach.

She had moves… I mean MOVES!

Cut and double back at full speed.

On the adjacent dogs permitted section,

Where once she was a prime mover,

And upwards of 10 miscreants

Gave chase to my darting black mutt,

There were only two of us, both aging.

My job was to keep watch for beach cops.

Her job was to feel the sand

That, instantly, sparked recall of an earlier time,

And demanded she jump and spin.

Rose was not as fast or graceful as in years passed.

Nor could she persist beyond two rotations

Of my watch’s minute hand.

Still, my heart would swell,

With each light stride that the beach demanded

As payment for her joyful presence.

Ray Got It Right

We had a card, received via a charitable donation we had made. It entitled us to a huge discount at a favorite restaurant. The discount was open ended. Every time we eat there we get the bargain. After several years the charity discontinued the card, but we still received this very attractive price break from the restaurant.

Ray was unhappy with the arrangement. He declined the savings, reasoning that the owner of the restaurant had not agreed to the lower price after the card lapsed, and we should not be taking advantage. Initially, I had reasoned that we had not asked for the continuation of the policy, and because we were “good” customers, the discount was not unreasonable. I did not ask our regular waitress if management had signed on to our deal, or if she knew the card had terminated.

What to do? Come clean and see what happens; say nothing and assume it was OK with management, or ask if management had approved the discount?

Perfect Morning

Had we been sitting in our assigned seats,

Facing our western wall,

Otherwise known as the Pacific Ocean,

We might have concluded we should not come again.

For surely we have repeated, to the point of monotony,

That the combination of  limitless blue-green sky,

enhanced by the occasional marshmallow cloud,

reflected in the morning’s lake gentle sea,

could not simply be again subjected to a false

typecast “perfection”.

Had you been here, noting all manner of

Of accommodation this day has visited upon us,

Whether it be the seemingly ubiquitous smile

Of all those who pass our uncrowned throne chairs,

Or our near beatific welcoming smile,

As though we are granting access to a dream

That offers peace and beauty.

You would have agreed that we must leave,

Or risk deciding, as only two atheists might,

That we need to review our beliefs.