Al Fresco Lunch Harbourside

Oh, I could write a dictionary
and people it with words.
(The married couple to my left speak
soft thoughts mildly slurred.)
My lexicon, my book of words,
would brim with definitions
so right and potent they would serve
conversationalists with munitions.
Philosophers (they slur as well)
would couch-joust with my terms
and, sneezing, spread my nouns and verbs
ubiquitously as germs.
But I’ll no right their wrongs today,
nor give them words to munch.
I’ll sit here outside in the springtime sun
and savour a springtime lunch.

2 thoughts on “Al Fresco Lunch Harbourside

  1. I fling my nouns and verbs around like hailstones on a summer’s day.
    They pile up in corners and soon melt away.

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