Once upon a time I was new to this world as was the first person…

Since that time, I grew up in the Bronx, swam in a creek and played in its swamps.

Dug worms and fished in Eastchester Bay, did much of nothing almost every day.

Played stickball, baseball, football and stoop ball, pitched pennies and nickels and gambled with cards.

Borrowed lumber and nails from construction sites, built our coops for Homers and Flights.

High school finished, had to beat the draft, so enlisted in Army, it was a bit daft.

A reluctant soldier I would not be, volunteered to cross over the sea.

Vietnam, Vietnam, we did our best, our government decided to divest.

And home.

From the III Corps to the Peace Corps, two years for Fiji.

And home again.

To care for my parents on their journey’s end.

Built a few boats, all from wood, one to sail, and two to row. Built my own home for a place to go.

Was once arrested, spent a few days in jail, wrote two books about noise and e-mail.

Enjoy shoveling snow, in winter only, for summer is much to hot.

Look forward to spring, see stuff grow, and get ready my garden spot.

And feed the fish, who slept all winter, beneath the ice and snow.

From a feral cat’s litter, took in a kitten, named him Hey-U but does he listen?

He’s the son of a batchelor, a little SOB, but I like him as he does me.

Now retired from something, not sure what, and perhaps I’m really not.

Like reading, writing and simple math, as 2+2=4.

Enjoy arts and crafts, woodwork and paint, take some pictures too.

Got a guitar and ukulele, can’t really play them for you, but play with them for me, that I do.

Life’s never over, until it ends.

But who’s to say there’s not so much more.


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