The trouble with Reg
is that he sacrifices indulgence
for a choice of martyrdom of the spirit
offered champagne, he will resort to water
when the occasion demands exuberance
he will deftly demand little of himself
life reclining in a beach chair
I make my usual play
under a brooding sun
I order the lobster
from the gaunt waiter
ironically to be trusted on gastronomy
Reg orders clams
a sure move
not character building
but a solid purchase none-the-less
"The birds have flown for winter" I offer
"Is that a title or an observation" he quips
shelling a clam and feigning an interest
in my writing pursuits
that have endured an ageless summer
in retreat from prominence
"For now, merely an observation" I return
He smiles reflectively then offers
"Then I trust you will fulfil its potential in time"
I gather my thoughts as he raises another clam
I gaze far off across the bay
where the wind and tide toy for dominance