next year
you'll go south for the winter.
become
a snow bird.
you'll take nothing but
a small bag
of shorts
and shirts. no shoes.
you'll lie
on the beach in the land
of oranges
and coconuts.
you'll learn
to play a mandolin
and sit
by the shore with
your hat turned up for
change.
you think all of this as you
stand
in line
with a snow shovel,
and a twenty pound
bag
of road salt.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
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