IT WAS A JULY DAWN

It was a sunny July day
Harry was missing
surely Harry was at the pier
everyone first said
fly fishing at the bay,
but his rod was there
but not him,
surely Harry was out
for a swim,
we went to the dock
every hour on the clock
and it was dark
had Harry been eaten
by a shark
we all tried not to panic
but to comfort one another
to everyone in town
Harry in deed was a brother,
was it a latent sadness
from a parental storm
or hapless form of madness
that let him not conform,
whatever common gossip
on every busy body's lip
perhaps Harry
was simply on an acid trip
or just on a blip
on the T.V. screen
when Harry wins
a writer's international prize
monetary award
and life long sinecure
what a surprise in town
as Harry returns to fly fish
down on the shore,
he treats me for a meal
at "The Fried Dish" next door.