The third day of gray
One at the end of the year
And two at the beginning of this year.
Safe to say the roads are clear
Black ice should not exist
People will roar to their destination
Sometimes without thinking.
The hospital is not happy
They like billing hours
Just like attorneys
They don’t extrapolate however
Like some lawmen do
They play it straight, although
One doctor told me I could
See him in five or six weeks
As he knew how to do the billing
The wind is from the south and
There are whitecaps slapping the shore
Why can’t we all be friends
I don’t want to be billed just because you can
And why can’t I call you by your first name
As you can call me by mine
I don’t ask you to call me Mr. Von Sloet tot Haarmann
Which was my last name before my dad had it
Shortened when he was naturalized. Anyway
I forgive you just as I forgive the gray. Why
Can’t we all be friends?
Stanski
January 2, 2024, ^
Steve Haarman 