I THOUGHT I HEARD THE word THIRD

I THOUGHT I HEARD THE WORD THIRD

I used to walk south to twenty-third and eighth then make a left hand turn
I walked all the way in ragged jeans and shoes that ain’t got no sole
My mission was to reach a man who actually made me wish to learn
To know the streets and read the faces as he did became my ultimate goal

He was filthy but with clothes not very old
His name was J. Harrington the third
More than a few of us sat transfixed on what we were told
And marveled at every single word

He’d describe what he nor anyone knew for sure
Is it darkness ever after or a table with Jesus as his newest guest
Is their deity sitting around inventing a new disease for which there is no cure
And all of us would praise Mr. Harrington at superiority’s request

He’d speak of the things he’s done that he can never take back
He was old now but his conscience would ever stay young
He spoke of life as if all we needed was a roof over a shack
And let go of the dreams of fancy to which we all clung

One morning of late I made my same old trip
Walk to a man I was beholden to for knowledge and more
He talked of steamers, steam engines and stowing away on a ship
But now we’re left on our own since Mr. J. Harrington the third gave up the night before
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE WENT, SHE JUST UP AND DISAPPEARED

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Comments (1)

SundaySilence
I like it when you write about NYC...tell us some more.
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