This poem was written in a moment of serendipity experienced at the neighborhood bank tonight on the eve of my 58th birthday.
Tonight at the bank
A succession of signs
Presented themselves
In quite linear fashion
First the ATM wished me
Happy birthday which I found
Frightening enough that old
JP Morgan even knew or cared
Quite so much
And the next thing I knew
JP was thrusting money at me
In a most peculiar way
More so than I could have
Ever hoped or imagined possible
And then to top it all off
He asked me if there
Was anything else he
Could help me with
At which point
I showed presence
Enough of mind
To ask for at least
One more good year
For the both of us
My dear brother
No matter how
Outlandish a request
That may seem to be
To make at the bank
My dear brother
No matter how
Outlandish a request
That may seem to be
To make at the bank
No comments:
Post a Comment