Wisdom looked deep
into my soul and said to me,
“As you commence your search
for my dwelling place,
clothe yourself with humility,
wonder, and awe,
and leave behind
your cloak of certitude
and dogged need
to be right.”

© 2014 Dennis Ference

Old Man Brady

Old Man Brady
made money. I mean–
abracadabra, ta da–he made money.
That’s what I believed when I was five.
Nickels, dimes, pennies, quarters—
he plucked them from the grass
like a bird snatching bugs,
swearing, of course,
they were there all the time
just waiting to be found
by a couple of guys like us.
Old Man Brady
walked the block ‘most every day.
It got to be when I spotted him,
I’d lock my step to his and
he’d say, “I don’t know
if we’ll be lucky today,”
but we always were, and
I always got to pocket the change.

Old Man Brady
stopped walking the block
a long time ago. And me, I still
scan the ground now and again,
kicking up memories
and wistful longings for
a flash or two of magic
and its sweet, tonic buzz.

© 2004 Dennis Ference