Photo by: Bisbohemian/Flickr



THE MINING TOWN WAVER

Silly old man walks down silly old street
waves his hand at everybody. You don't know him.
No one does. So, he must be a retarded angel.
Past the hospital, across from Dottie's Diner,
he walked every day just waving his hand in the air.
Eternity behind him, a shadow calls his name.
A thousand ghosts shimmer in a tributary

all the way back down
the other way to the Campbell Shaft.
We called to him the Philosopher King.
They say, he was born that way.