Stages
Here
In shacks clawed onto rock
we kept our gear
and then in little boats
cast off to take
our living from the sea.
The sea was like a bank
and not.
You never knew
how much you had
in your account
or could draw out.
But that was where
the holdings were
so that was where we went
and spent our day.
That day is gone now.
Where, who knows?
And so are we.
There's talk about a greater love and Lord above
but what I wouldn't give
(if I could give)
for one more spin
around the dance floor
with my Anna
who I sent my heart to in a card
and who grieved to see me buried.

14 February 2019
Texas Jim
Prospect, Nova Scotia
www.granitecoast.ca