The Left-Behind Clothing
The Left-Behind Clothing
by Lawrence Jones | Bristol, VT
Out there by the flècha the garments lay.
Was the owner keeping heat stroke at bay?
Or were they too heavy? No one can say,
but there by the flècha the garments lay.
Long sleeves, and long pants, and some sneakers, too:
perhaps the good wearer had come to rue
packing such clothing for a summer stew;
long sleeves, and long pants, and some sneakers, too.
Or had the poor pilgrim just laid on down,
despairing of reaching the nearby town?
Perhaps with a smile or perhaps a frown,
that poor peregrino just laid on down.
And perhaps right then his old spirit fled,
up from its humble and natural bed.
His body went, too, for he was sure dead,
right after his spirit had up and fled!
Or was this the old witch, once in disguise,
who someone doused with water by surprise?
She all at once began to vaporize!
So much for wicked witches in disguise.
So this is a lesson for all who read:
don’t pack any more than you know you’ll need,
and if you’re a witch, you’ll be dead, indeed!
You follow this lesson, if you can read!
