LOST AND NOT FOUND

I just read a poem in 
one of my poetry books 
while I was rearranging 
my bookcase and eliminating 
some of the excess.   
I believe it had the title, “Picasso”, 
and that is what caught my eye.
I read the poem and then put the book down.
When looking for it later it could not be found,
a cause of real frustration.   
In the poetic story 
Picasso comes over for dinner and 
smacks his lips as they eat 
roast beef, potatoes with gravy, 
a fresh green salad and 
some fine medium bodied red wine.  
After dinner they sit on 
the back porch and talk.  
Then Picasso walks out to 
the shed saying, 
“I will make you some art”.  
He finds a broken bike frame, 
some stove pipe, wire, old tools, 
a few feathers and some paint.  
Pablo fashions an artistic piece, 
embellished, as only he could, with 
the green feathers and paint.
He gives it to the hosts, gifting them
with a “Here you are”.  
While mom and dad are in 
their praise and thank you mode, 
the teenage son walks by and 
looking at the art object says, 
“What in the hell is that?” 
giving new meaning to 
the phrase that one man’s junk is 
another man’s art or something like that.  
Day and night, night and day, 
you are the one.  
That is you Pablo, and sadly 
I cannot find you.

Stanislaus Kuperski the Firski AKA Stanski
February 22, 2015 ^