THE ROAMING SOOTHSAYER

soothsayer

‘Tabs,’ the hard currency

A realized necessity for

The unshaven one

Park bench for a pit

A charcoal sky ensuite

An out of date Times

Worn beneath Sally Army’s

Hand-me-downs

Only the one sock

One sock?

 

In his back pocket

A tatty snap, a pretty girl

He had loved and lost

 

Once in bygone days

He took no heed of

His father’s counsel

‘We are all but

One pay packet

Away from ruin’

Hard to engage with

Fatherly words when

Wine, women and

Song were the

Order of the night

 

It was vacant eyes

Eyes that spelled out

Bemusement that met

The roaming soothsayer

 

That we all die

The easy prediction

That some ride

Death’s highway

Upon a golden chariot

Others in a frozen trance

Made grim prophecy

Even easier in his case

 

As she, the forecaster

Advised this down at heel

The vagrant wind

Deprived of titan corridors

And drafty envelopes

Pitters out

Becomes a nothing

When the janitor Sun

Condescends to return north

And tidy up the

Ravages of winter-tide

 

Come autumn

His remains, as dust

Scattered here and there

His essence recycled

In the impossible ether

Was the best comfort

She could afford him

That he nodded

Meant he understood

The absurdity of his folly

The extent of his

Defeat

 

 

 

 

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19 thoughts on “THE ROAMING SOOTHSAYER

    • How very kind and thoughtful. Please do not think me ungrateful but the key tag to my blogging is that I don’t want (and most likely don’t deserve) to be taken seriously. It is for this reason only that I don’t accept awards for they feel a bit ‘serious’ to me. Notwithstanding you have my eternal gratitude young Allison. Yours, The Old Fool

  1. WOW! Your quill (keyboard?), the brush in this magnificent painting you’ve created with words. This one was so vivid and captivating! Though I must wonder if he died from frostbite on his sockless foot?

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