Wiping my soles of a green gradoo,
Wishing for catenate rhymes to accrue.
Columnar phrases we whisper at night,
Jointing and cooling, crackling on sight.
Opening comments come up the next day
Out of our comfort, then die away.
Though smiled in response, your eyes will avert
Gathering mettle you hoped to assert.
I’m always hopeful for those might-have-beens,
But with the gradoo, the unusual wins.
Picture by me: basalt formations from The Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland, March 2019
Gradoo = cajun slang for “stuff you scrape off your shoe.” Also, a delicious side dish with spinach, onions, cheese, and garlic.