Sunday, May 18, 2008

Soar/Sore for Sunday Scribblings

This is more of a story than a poem but it made me chuckle (and cringe!) remembering it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mt. Washington Sky Adventures
was a business
owned by my son.

He gave glider rides
around the White Mountains.
I was his receptionist.

One day a man, with greasy
fly-away hair, stopped by
and paid for a ride.

I walked him
to the end of the runway
where the glider

was tethered to the tow plane,
an old Pawnee crop duster,
and got him belted in.

While the pilot
was getting himself ready,
the man reached

into his jacket pocket,
pulled out a mangy old comb
and asked me

to take care of it for him.
I held that dirty thing
while balancing

the wings as the glider
took off, and then,
all the way back

to the office. I put it
on the counter then washed
my hands with anti-bacterial soap

for at least five minutes.
When he got back
he was so discombobulated

that he forgot his precious
comb. It’s probably still there.
No way was I going to touch it again.

8 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

what odd behaviour! Your telling of it made me smile...

anthonynorth said...

A mystery with teeth, indeed :-)

paisley said...

eeeewwwwwwww......

Granny Smith said...

Use tongs to remove it to the trash. A nice glimpse into your(?) life. I treasure the memory of my one glider ride, sharing an updraft with a circling hawk.

Tammy Brierly said...

I'd love that job just to observe the reations. I'm sure you tossed the comb. lol

Pirate Princess said...

LOL! I don't know that you meant it to be funny, but I could just see you mentally eyeballing the left behind comb... :) You told it very well.

Susan Helene Gottfried said...

People are funny, aren't they? He'd be a great character in a book. (hmm....)

I really like the three-line way in which you told this story. It gave it an extra zip that's cool because the story didn't need it -- but is better for it.

Anonymous said...

Wish I could put my finger on what it is that made this story so fascinating; I think it is the way you told it, I felt like I was being led, told just enough in each stanza to have me wanting more.

(Leon fell in love with Maine years ago - I've never seen it. BTW, Keep that dream alive.)

Linda's Poems