Max was a veteran of Korean War
Hard as nutshell and soft as cotton
With a female companion who did not know war
And never cared for anything but
A small cottage of her own and Max
They lived in small apartment in small town
As custodian of a crumbling building
With circle of people of no means and equal dreams
A six pack of beer or occasional wine
Some barbeque in evenings of summer days
And the day was as good as could get
No one knew if anything ever happened between
These two companions of old times and
No one knew if they would last long enough to see
The home of their own in shade of Mississippi woods
“There was a man who lost his shoes and was so sad
to see a man of no legs to lose his sadness” and
That was Max’s story whenever someone was unhappy
“Would you get me a pack of beer from the store, my leg hurts today”
Asking a resident of the crumbling building as passed his window
And never paid for the cost of the six pack and we all knew
And no one cared as he offered everybody beer whenever possible.
Although some tried to avoid the window for obvious reason but
Not many did and not many cared.
We were all poor with big dreams
We all liked Max and his war stories,
And Hazel, his companion of no war and no intimacy, but togetherness
Summer night of years ago, on the eve of my maturity and insanity
Max took his life with his last bear, slipping in his long sleep
To fight more Koreans and conquer more hills from Chinese
And build the cottage of Hazel’s dreams on the highest
Mississippi hills under the biggest tree of thousand branches
And wait for her to arrive in a starry summer night of her choice
That was long time ago on the eve of my maturity and insanity.
