(for Dickie)

It was an offhand, off-the-top,
unthought-out remark decades ago,
dashed off as we zoomed

toward our destination,
the oldest, still-standing hotel
in the national park,

him driving roads he knew well,
me riding shotgun. We had
to meet someone or check in

at a specific time or… neither
of us remembers the particulars.
But out of my mouth came:

“We’ll either get there or Wawona.”

And out of his mouth came one
of his loudest guffaws,
as I realized that I’d delivered

a pretty good pun to a master punster.
He’s never forgotten it, considers it
one of my best lines,

which pleases me mightily,
he being my best and favorite
audience, one who is always

quick to applaud my efforts,
even the unthinking ones
that result, he’ll tell you

(and bless him for his bias),
in pure poetry.