A.G.E's Joint

Port too long No tall ship wanting  To sail away  To Parts unknown I am but a loser who Gets lucky From the sympathy  of the passerby My call to sea Was shortened By a the fear Of the riptide Of the undertow From fears and dreams I am but a Shadow Captain A fly on the wall Dolphins breach Thirty feet offshore Calling me to play I scoff at their gall This son  Of a son of a sailor Only crabs on shore now No vessel to loan _____________________________________________________________________________ Picture (c) Don Teuton, Savannah GA 2012, 2013

The road runs along it's path Ending at the car park Runners ramble along the ruins Of the old paper mill. Slapping sounds of spawn Working their way along the bank Fluid flowing to carry them To the fisherman wading there. Squirrel stares down at me Sitting on my bench Taking in the promenade Of humanity healing their souls.