the hero

the rich uncle
in his white suit,
polished white shoes,
in flordia
on his boat,
docked beside
his Cadillac
used to visit your
mother, his
sister, when you were
all children,
skinny and ragged
in old but clean
clothes.
he'd hand you
a five dollar bill
from his roll of cash,
muss up your
hair with
his soft hand
and say don't spend
it all in one place,
which you did,
buying the largest
sandwich you could
find.