The Biographer


The Biographer
61 Biographers don’t have to write
to paint a picture clear.
And that’s good news for aging men
whose sight fades by the year.
65 An elder man sits in the park,
a sculptor of the phrase.
He chisels, carves, and blows at dust,
unfolds a hidden face.
One day he sits beside two boys.
70 He’s seen both kids before.
They run around, play make-believe,
throw real life out the door.
Old man decides to join their fun.
He paints a world from scratch.
75 All three discuss and come alive,
their fairytale unmatched.
The mother of the boys stops by.
She walks her golden dog,
which storytellers turn to fey :
80 a slimy pet green frog.
And while this fam’ly laughs and plays
the old man spies abroad –
across the park he briefly sees
a mute ideologue.
85 A lonely sight, if truth be told,
the sole man strides away,
but not before he yearns to hear
the old man’s group’s parley.
Biographer then starts to craft
90 that young man’s sorry tale:
a life of outside note taking
devoid of zest, just stale.
The story formed in old man’s head,
a plan develops quick.
95 He waves goodbye to boys and dog,
and heads off with a skip.
Next day the stealthy old man waits
until he spots his prey.
Then he confronts the thinker man,
100 who plainly shies away.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, sir.
Please share with me your thoughts.”
But ponderer, as you might guess,
just answers he will not.
105  “Oh come now, sir, don’t steal your mind.
Please, any thought will do.”
The young and thoughtful target says:
“No one’s as strange as you.”
At this the old man has his in,
110 a gauntlet, if you will.
He spins out tales of modern knights,
and stranger men yet still.
The younger man snaps at the bait.
A conversation blooms.
115 The men compare the men they know,
each detail well-exhumed.
Biographer’s plan did succeed.
The two men speak at ease.
A thought alone cannot do much
120 But shared, it’s limit-free…

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