The Pirate

“Have at you, Matie!”

I heard him cry

I saw him thrust and parry

With a patch over his eye.

In fear I shook

Then I fell to the ground

His sword in the hand without the hook

Came crashing fiercely down.

I rolled, just in the time called nick

But the point of his sword caught my shirt.

Pinned to the ground I thought I’d be sick.

Then he looked in my eyes and saw the hurt.

He let out a menacing laugh

And raised his hook into the air.

I thought I was about to be cut in half.

I knew for my pleading he did not care.

The hook fell hard and fast,

This fight was close to the end.

I breathed until I breathed my last,

Then my breathing I did suspend.

“Get up Dad,” is what he next said

“I want to play some more.

Come on, you’re not really dead,

I’ll give you a head start to the door.”

Making an effort to get away,

I rolled and got up on my feet.

“You’ll never catch me,” he heard me say

Then I added, “I love you, Keats.”

March 2003