hey mister, gotta dime?

hey mister, tell me, please, gotta dime?
freezing cold weather, my shoes are worn
sure I’ll buy another bottle of wine, it’s warm
the moths have eaten my blanket, my socks
let dirty toes breathe the artic winter air
instead could you spare me your red scarf?

around her ivory neck, blood-red velvet scarf
hides the fact she just spent her last dime
oh there’s more, it grows on trees, falls from the air
although she’s tired of trying, overly worn
out – oh for the comfort of woolen socks
silk stockings have never kept her feet warm

inside the grocery store she looks warm
wrapped in her tassled crimson scarf
in spite of her age, color coordinated socks
I offer her lacking change, only a dime
her pocket book is tattered and worn
thin, her wispy thanks floats on the air

children’s balloons filled with invisible air
their innocent laughter immediately will warm
us, weary to the bones, generations have worn
our grandmother’s hand-me-down scarf
bought at Sear’s so long ago for just a dime
they make silly jokes about rocks in socks

daddy, I need a new pair of blue school socks
my toes don’t like sticking out in the air
I looked at the store, they cost a dime
new shoes at two dollars to keep me warm
I’ll sew together old scraps for a new scarf
I’m so tired of old things so worn

bottle in hand, thinks he remembers, worn
out, his soul battered like his socks
his daughter knit that old faded scarf
years ago when happiness was in the air
and truly a smile could keep a guy warm
better than nowadays, the need for a dime

a burgundy scarf worn like a memory of yesterday’s cold air
marine socks without love can’t keep no heart warm
we’re worn out, desperate for life, asking for a dime


hey mister, gotta dime?
[2007.14.5…b]
A free-form sestina