|Jan/Feb 2002 • Poetry|
Return with a Snau
Years before we smoked a joint with Creedence
And giggled, "There's a bathroom on the right,"
We had that word's mystery to tease us
Whenever we tuned in the masked man's ride.
"Yesteryear" we got, and "Kemo Sabe,"
But that one stumped us--"Return with a snau..."
Was it Old West gear that any cowboy
Might wear or carry, like spurs, chaps, lasso?
Or some signature Lone Ranger flourish:
A talisman of silver, a bold cry?
Daring and resourceful then, we cherished
Cloud of dust just as much as speed of light.
We'd all grow up someday, we knew, and know
The answers grownups know. We're grownup snau.