The Old Shed
“Hello….uh, umm…Have we met?...Yea, that's right…Sure… Karen?”
Well I don't know you well but you seem like the kind
That might join me for coffee at the five-and-dime?
But they don’t have five-and-dimes anymore,
Now they just call them 'Dollar Stores'.
And you won't find a counter where coffee is served
But if licorice and Spam is what you prefer
A big Beggar’s Banquet is in store for you.
We can chat and can laugh in my Subaru.
Now a half-hour ago you were almost a stranger
And a question like this could perhaps signal danger…
Can we go to my place and chat there instead?
My tool shed is warm (and there won't be a bed!)
But there’s an old wooden desk that I got from my mom
And a field jacket on the wall I brought back from Nam,
Amid mouse traps, rakes, and seed for the lawn.
I can brew up some tea; it won't take too long,
It’s there that I write, maybe smoke a cigar.
Its there that I keep my fears in a jar,
A family reunion is framed on the wall.
And my Stella guitar leaning in amongst all,
If you just take a chair and let me sing you some songs
That an old man kept hidden but never belonged
In this dusty old shack. So…if you please, may I croon?
Please, sit in the chair. Let me sing you a tune.
... and the song I sang? From Donovan - https://youtu.be/-cd2yG7BiVg
Copyright © Ken Rone | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment