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Tell me there will again be a day when my most pressing task will be to wake up and wander around barefoot, contemplate shades of brown
Play with the flea ridden, fetch-loving, stray black lab who wanders over stick in mouth, grinning
Hop on a bike and pedal to Mac's, ponder the freshest catch and discuss with the bright-eyed boy on the other side of the counter whether to steam or saute those sea beans
"Remembah - don't salt 'em!" in his thick Boston accent
Wake my boys up with a screen door slam, whistle that it's time for a picnic breakfast of egg sandwiches in kayaks, in those otherworldly mud island marshes
Tell me it's coming