Key West (copyright 2021 by Michael Walker)
I remember riding in a convertible
In Key West, in Florida
Looking for a glimpse of Key deer
While we sped along.
I was having a hard time
Believing such a fragile one
Existed
Believing
While you thumbed the radio
Searching for SOLID GOLD.
The sun was shining
But Hemingway’s house was
Unfortunately, closed.
I made it my sacred duty that day
To scan the jungle
For one spotted
Diminutive
Faun
As you talked about Key Lime
The Conch Republic or something
I searched and searched
Until eyes grew very tired
You still with one indomitable
Hand
On that dial…