Letter: My dear a boat race
Looks aren’t that important. It’s what’s in your heart, what’s on your mind, and what you have found.
She asked if she could share the shade of a tree.
I said it would cost her fifty dollars an hour to sit on the ground with me.
She said she wouldn’t take up much space, I said we were probably just kidding. A beautiful child, a young woman of the human race.
Two little girls were so different.
One complaining, pure boredom on her face. She wouldn’t be content, just wanted to go home.
But she wouldn’t leave, her daddy, her daddy, alone.
The other, so, so quiet. So serene. So contained. Sits with her mom by the rocks on the shore.
The boats were so much fun. All made out of cardboard. Some painted as dragons and one a parrot sleeping on its back.
Someone asked, “who won?”
I thought we all did. It didn’t matter. What mattered was they all got wet having fun.
Three ladies. One from Kansas, another from the Eastern Slope, the other I think from here.
All filled with laughter and from moving with me in the shade. Thank you, thank you my dears.
The blue and white bulldog that just wanted to swim.
He’s from here, I know. He followed me once on a walk, even went into Kum & Go with me.
He’s a beauty. One side of his face is, I say blue, but it’s really gray. The other side is white.
He laid down in the Loudy pond with a content look on his face after he got a big drink.
Yum, that green water sure tasted good to a blue and white bulldog. Just like, yes just like, it should.
The wind played havoc with the high profile boats. The 24, I thought it wouldn’t even get off the bank.
But it did, then it promptly sank.
Oh what fun, on a Saturday afternoon, seeing old friends and meeting new.
Thank you, Mr. Wineman, for the balloons, the music, and all that you do.
Catch the race, well maybe next year.
Don’t I know you? Well, that’s not a line, just from an ol’ geezer, my dear.
Well, well. I guess I’ll see you, yeah, yeah, see you again next year.
Just for fun.
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