‘It’s still not real to me’ his mouth said.
His thin shoulders agreed
‘But I know what I saw’.
‘I was out early with the dog –
The sky though felt different today –
Vermillion and toasty
A hushed forest floor.’
He gazed at the fuzzy microphone,
spinning bewilderment.
‘I almost took a photo
But then I thought – forget it
How often do we think that
and then genuinely regret it?’
He mops his brow with the dog.
‘Listen, I”m not a hocus pocus kind of guy
But I trust what I see what I know with my eye
There it was – not a leprechaun or lights in the sky
Over there, twixt the glade and the sty
Was a smart little man in navy suit and tie
Handing out money and saying he’d try
To the poor little folks who were standing by
He listened to a woman, shook his head with a sigh
Said he didn’t know, was sorry, it was wrong, wouldn’t fly
He took out a pen, drew up a plan
The woman beamed, already a fan
He made one call – then it was done
Waved off the woman’s thanks, said he had to run
He liked to go where the press wouldn’t see
And that was when he spotted me
And he vanished – like that – just plain disappeared
Just me, dog and little folk – no one affeared.’
He squinted hard at the lady-with-the-mic.
‘I can see that you’re looking at me with suspicion
But there’s no reward for this – I’m not on commission
And I’ll be met in the pub with a ton of derision
But I’m sure – what I saw – was – an honest politician!’
Stefanie Moore 