Forgotten Awhile

I

"Never use that fine end of your pocket comb"
Grandpa cautioned me as we were walking home
While not doubting his admonishing intent
I nonetheless have no idea what he meant

Perhaps he feared those tiny teeth injurious
Though I may never know now I am curious

Should I ever see him again I might ask
Beyond such misunderstanding as might mask
This mystery of the fine end of the comb
Should we meet again having found our way home

II

I am new to the zoo but here I am now
Wet behind the ears wearing short years long
But scheming and plotting to escape somehow
As I will do when I finish my song

Why do those old lions look at me that way
With something which looks for the world like pity
Not for the lifers but the daytrippers they
Who are swept each night from this unreal city?

Come and wash off the stain of me with a hose
The zoo is the zoo as (now) everyone knows

III

This is a snapshot of your existence:
You will get there despite your persistence
And then when you get there you might arrive
Where Charlie surfs and you come home alive

You saddled up and went out on patrol
Without knowing what you were looking for
So they got your body but not your soul

The time returns to saddle up once more
And should you spy me aiming from a tree
Just know that I am not your enemy

IV

I combed with the wide end for all of those years
Until my hair went grey and my whiskers white
I combed and I combed but did I get it right
(I guess maybe not if I still have these fears)?

I finally have to use the fine end now
(Duly admonished) out of necessity
I could never follow anyone but me
There was no one in front of me anyhow

Deep in the jungle forgotten awhile
Walk in those boots if for only a mile

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII