I hope old Schooner’s all right.
He looked a little cranky last time.
He knew something was coming down the pike.
Birds know. They have a crystal ball.
They foresee earthquakes, tsunamis.
He must have foreseen the sale of the pub
& the old drive-thru that housed his Taj Mahal
Of a cage where he held court rasping, See Ya!
To customers who had stopped to chat.
I hope he’s okay where he is.
Each Friday at the pub I raise my glass
To Old Schooner.
Here’s to you! I say. Stay cocky, dude.