A trail
It leads to the woods
Trees of many varieties
Sunshine filters through
Birds chattering
Crows communicating
Chipmunks scampering
A gaggle of geese
Headed for the water
I start singing
I know a lot of songs
I should write them down
The titles of them
I could sing all day
I tried to remember
The name of a certain artist
I was laying in bed at the time
Couldn’t fall into slumber
Went through the alphabet
One letter at a time
Stopped at the letter N
Nothing clicked
Then like magic
Rothko
That is it
An art museum in Houston
Dedicated to him
I felt good for remembering
Then thought of a man we
Played golf with at Hilton Head
He ran a junk yard which melded
Into a travel bus business
He had a sun who was a doctor
Out of the blue, like turning your head
His name came to me
Winston Setchfield
He, with his wife were heading to Texas
For their pad at Hilton Head
They stopped at a rest stop in Alabama
Parked in an opening
His twin brother was there
Neither knew the others plans
They had a good laugh
More thoughts later
Stanski on August 9, 2023, ^
Steve Haarman 