STORYVILLE

      While driving down a lonely country road
      just after dawn, a coffee in one hand,
      I saw ahead where a hitchhiker strode,
      and since I had no destination planned,
      I stopped to pick him up: “Give me a lift?”
      He asked and smiled, a friendly seeming guy:
      “Ain’t got no money, but I’ve got a gift
      to give you, which I think you won’t deny.”
      “Hop in,” I said, “No need, the ride’s on me.
      Glad for the company.  Where are you goin’?”
      “To Storyville,” he said.  “I’d like to see
      that town,” I said, “a place I think worth knowin’.
      You see, I’m just a poet who reflects,
      but story’s how a reader’s heart connects.”

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