The Lakeside Shed of Bocephous Jones (revisited)

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Andrew Scott
Member Elite

since 1999-06-24

Posts 2558
Redlands,CA,USA

0 posted 2003-01-25 12:33 PM

In the hour long of night
And shy of day
When neither moon nor sun
Shine so bright
Cold stretches out its ghostly tendrils
To enfold a valley home
There, slowly taking hold
Strangling every sound to silence
It seeks the lakeside shed of Bocephous Jones

Sixty-some years Bo’s known the fog
And in their time, father and grand
Each knew the chill of this same hour.
The morning’s silence echoes countless years
Where no ripple roams the shore
Stillness presides
A mirror of mist
And grave reflections

Bo doesn’t like to swim.

Mornings before the sun
Bo brews his joe with a touch of grain
Loads equal amount to his flint
And takes his black comfort against the chill
To stand rocking chair vigil on his porch with Dog.

All is quiet in that hour.

Slowly
Memories seep in like mist
Shadows to shade the soup
And Bo thinks of wife Lorraine
Who bore son Lonnie
Both gone now
Gone a’swimmin’
Lonnie to the lake two winters past
Lorraine more seasons than Bo can count
But Bo’s got nowhere to go
And the fog gets thicker each passing year

Bo’s not usually prone to the call
But memories drip thick this morning
Each a weight in the waters of regret
Dragging him down
Deeper and deeper
Through the murky depths of despair
Like a syrup steeped in sadness
And self destruction
If not for Dog he’d have drown

A warning bark breaks the binds of memory
And Bo swims back to shore
Where he wakes with a jolt
Wet with sweat
Spilt coffee
And something like lake water
Bo knows how close he came
Dog gives a Dog look
Bo returns a Bo look
With a scratch that says “Thanks!”
And turns his gaze to the white haze
Bo knows he almost went a’swimmin’
It’ll be a two-bone bowl for Dog this day

Plucking O’Betsy from the porch
Bo takes aim at nothing
And everything
Pulls back the hammer
And triggers a new day
With a flash pan spark of sound
That shouts at the sun
As it peeks over the mountain tops
Black powder smoke and daylight
Drive the ghosts
From shed and valley
Chasing them back through
Passes and canyons
To their elderich home
Sealed away for another day

But tomorrow brings another chance
In this age old game
And Bo looks tired and wet

The lake never sleeps

Mistletoe Angel

Member Empyrean

since 2000-12-17

Posts 32816
Portland, Oregon

1 posted 2003-01-25 12:49 PM

(big huggsssssssss) Oh Andrew, this is wonderful, sweet friend, it too can be so saddening to be living with a place of haunting menmories and my heart goes out to those whose hearts are tied and encumbered among them! (sad sigh) I love this, sweet friend, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Andrew, thank you for sharing!