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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513518" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Spillway</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I drove down to the lake today<br>Where the water flowed in through the old spillway<br>Lazy and bored I figured I'd just sit<br>Drink a beer or two and daydream a bit</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I parked right next to a gnarled oak tree<br>In solitude where I wanted to be<br>Eighty eight point five played my favorite songs<br>I couldn't help myself so I sang along</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Till I had a fancy to explore<br>I opened up the rusty blue Dodge Ram door<br>All bundled tight in my wool poncho<br>I stepped out the truck into ten below</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the Permian red mud squished beneath my boots<br>Onto the flat full of geese and coots<br>The sky was depressing, dark and grey<br>Like you'd expect it to be on a funeral day</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I hadn't gone there to sulk or brood<br>Watching water fill the lake is always good<br>I walked a fair distance to the northeast side<br>Skipped a few rocks on the by and by</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And just when I was sure that I was all alone<br>Up comes a hobo with a mangy redbone<br>I could tell by the look in his careful eye<br>That he was just as scared of me as to him was I </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I put out my hand to introduce myself<br>Saying 'What's with the weather? It's cold as hell! '<br>He, 'That's a contradiction. It's about to snow'<br>Me, 'Yes, no, maybe and I just don't know'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He told me then that his name was Sam<br>He was down on his luck but not on the flim flam<br>And trusting I reached to scratch the red dog's ears<br>Something telling me there was nothing to fear</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Sam and I walked in unison<br>He did most of the talkin; me the listening<br>He pointed to a place in a far off nook<br>Where his tent was hid away in a secret crook</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sam said, 'It isn't much, but I call it home'<br>'I've gotta can o' beans and some stale corn pone'<br>So we sat on the ground and I lit a match<br>The wood smoke smell from the campfire patch</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Making me think it was more of God's plan<br>That led me here to this homeless man<br>And together we ate with some plastic spoons<br>Chatting back and forth till way past noon</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When my watch chime signaled it was time to go<br>To walk back to the spillway where the water flowed<br>Where Sam was my brother for one crazy day<br>Though I doubt there's a chance I'll ever see him again</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written by Sara Fielder © 2012</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dedicated to Smack Thompson</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sara+Fielder">Sara Fielder</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513518" data-title="The Spillway de Sara Fielder" data-description="I drove down to the lake today
Where the water flowed in through the old spillway
Lazy and bored I figured I'd just sit
Drink a beer or two and daydream a bit

I parked right next to a gnarled oak tree
In solitude where I wanted to be
Eighty eight..."></div>
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