RYDER’S NIGHTWALKS
 
A century ago from harbor docks,
    the painter of moonlight stood watch.
Now in trailer parks or on quiet streets,
    I ponder the lamplit shadows.

For rheumatism he packed his brogans
    with straw and cold oatmeal.
Since I should know better how to treat feet,
    I’ll use hay and Cream of Wheat.

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© 2006 Warren Farr, revised 3/18
Reprinted from Poems by an Artist.