Voices on the Wind
Fall says it all
by James F. Gaines
These rain drops settle on the beach,
Another ocean out of reach.
Can you read the clouds? Can I?
Eddie the newsboy, squinty-eyed,
Sells all his magazines by touch.
Can you aspire to so much?
He walks to the donut shoppe at ten.
In slippers he walks back again.
Each day is shorter than the next.
He lives by centerfolds and text.
He chuckles as he takes a pull.
His socks are warm, of knitted wool,
And if the vodka’s somewhat cool,
It heats the belly of a fool.