The Innisfree Poetry Journal

www.innisfreepoetry.org

by Joan Colby

Charles in White

Charles is all in white,

Shorts, shirt, loafers, safari hat,

About to ply the local veldt

With erudition. He can beat

The naturalist to name a weed,

A native grass, an invasive specie.

He gasps as we trudge a steep hill,

Drops back and fumbles in his pack

For a pill he swallows dry. Strides on

Skinny calves marching to make the lead.

At the shelter, two newcomers

Under his spell: the dialogue

Of how things ought to be:

Conservation, gun control, sitting zazen.

Their eyes begin to glaze, they shift

On the rough benches. Charles

Is on the plains, his vision glowing

As if he had a lion in his sights.

They won’t escape into the bush.

Evade the spoor of his opinions

Or get a word in.