Caveat: Barbears

Bear with me – this is a bad joke.

A bear walks into a bar.

Bartender: "What can I get you?"

Bear: "I'll have a gin… … … … and tonic."

Bartender: "Why the big pause?"

Bear: "Because… I'm a bear."

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Quatrains #10-14

(Poem #214 on new numbering scheme)

I walk the streets to work each day
and there's a restaurant.
It uses wood to cook its food:
the smell - it tends to haunt.
Aromas paint the air with thoughts
and memories of youth;
the burning wood recalls to me
those camping trips: Duluth.
October in the northern woods
along Superior;
We drove and sang Bob Dylan songs
Or stopped there on the shore.
Eventually we'd find a camp,
where we could raise a tent.
We'd light a fire, or take a hike,
I guess it's time well spent.
So nowadays I miss my friends,
our lives each have their track,
but when I pass that eating place
the smells, they draw me back.

– five quatrains in ballad meter.

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