One Summer at Castle Rock

Bernie Lewis found a head
washed up on the beach.
It was all squashed and sour looking.

Always reminds me of the look
on your face,
the day I told you
I was giving it
to your little cousin Annie.

Come to think,
it was probably that same summer,
when single-handedly
I lost my head
and Bernie netted his biggest catch.

Paul K. Henry

If you've any comments on this poem, Paul K. Henry would be pleased to hear from you.

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