Reward Notice

A surreptitious sip of lemonade
A pickle on a stick, an errant wink
The best, he promised once, is yet to come

In the crisp air of autumn I hum
Out for larks among boardwalk vivants
With a slug and a skeleton key
Through a riot of mustard and rust

Caught, but no one's built the trap yet
Take the catwalk with my shirt off
Every morning, any measure
Have a simple ceremony
Crown the day with spilled vanilla

Send my regards from the ground if old blue-eyes is crooning in Limbo
Tell him that I've got some anise to go with that plum - he'll remember

Sure ... still, he was right, flying a cold kite

The End

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