Well Dressed Boy

He didn’t like cotton, polyester, or wool

He had no need of pants, or shoes, or shirt,

for he relished the feel

of air on skin.

He did, however, love

The cowboy boots that kind of fit him

.

Early he would rise, and much to my surprise,

He’d shove boots over sockless toes

And disappear from site

Didn’t matter if they were on the wrong feet

Cuz he left the house knowing he was

a well dressed boy

I think, perhaps, he had a floppy old hat,

which he placed squarely on his head,

before making his plan of attack

and down the dusty trail he then would stride,

across the road, to play with Toad,

another well-dressed boy.

I don’t remember what shoes he wore

when his car flipped and

spit him through the shield.

I’d rather focus on those well-worn boots

And frumpy old hat that made him feel

like a well dressed boy

And how when he was older

He liked donning silk shirts and slacks

Cuz he was becoming a well-dressed man

Yes, I like to remember him

Laughing and free, strutting across the road

a well dressed  boy.