Pucker Up
I was prowling a pawn shop
recently when an older man
checking out the barrel of
fishing rods began to whistle
with abandon. Several people
were in the place, but everyone
seemed to take no notice.
I did not recognize the tune,
something by Edvard Grieg
possibly, or Arlo Guthrie.
At one point he glanced right
at me and I smiled at him.
He ignored me and kept on
whistling while he searched.
Tickled me that he felt he
did not need my smile to
enrich his mirth.
Glenn Buttkus
March 2011
A response to Tess Kincaid's A LOST ART.
Would you like to have the Author read this poem to you?
2 comments:
Hey, glad I could be some poetic inspiration, Glenn! This is such a charming piece. I love the range from Grieg to Guthrie and everything in between! ~t
I love this!!
I'm a whistler, you know.
xxoo
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