Friday, January 2, 2026

Randolph Scott at the Saturday Matinee on my Birthday - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Randolph Scott at the Saturday Matinee on my Birthday

 

 

…and life's rewards were chocolate bars and nickel bubble gum.

 

-Rod McKuen, “People on Their Birthdays”

 

 

At 78 I am old enough again

To play with my Mattel Dream Car on the lawn

Watch Randolph Scott at the Saturday matinee

And dream of catching a freight train out of town

 

My grandfather was 78 the summer I was six

He was born in a wagon; he never knew where

Manifest Destiny was an iron wheel over the bones

Of the First Nations, and of mothers who died young

 

We sat on the back steps while he whittled

And spit tobacco into the grass, and talked

And I don’t remember what he said

Or maybe what he said is in the wind

 

The passing of my dreaming barefoot summers

And of his life came as these things do -

We turn around and find that the gates of the past

Are shut against us and we don’t know why

 

I hope that on some shimmering summer day

Fishing poles on our shoulders

He’ll whistle up the dogs, and we’ll away

 

(There’s no rush – life is fun, and I haven’t yet visited the Kamakura Daibutsu!)

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Randolph Scott at the Saturday Matinee on my Birthday - poem

  Lawrence Hall Mhall46184@aol.com Dispatches for the Colonial Office   Randolph Scott at the Saturday Matinee on my Birthday   ...