The Trip to Florida: Part V: Back to last Week

Today the high was eighty. It was calm, and sunny. I woke up tired because I have been going non-stop since I left Lancaster Christmas day. So, I have put off going to The Palms of Mannasota Retirement Community until tomorrow. I actually watched CNN news in the morning. Then, I put on my trunks, and my robe. Nobody wants to look at my collapsing 85-year-old body, so it’s best to cover it up when walking around. I know that’s self loathing, but I can’t help it. I’d rather walk around as the Foil Man than as Isaac Stolzfuts.

Ageism rears its ugly head in the aged Isaac!


Here’s a picture of me many years ago, performing as the Foil Man at Rehoboth Beach, DE.



Be that as it may, I walked to the beach with In Search of Paul in hand, found a chaise in a prime location only a few feet away from the gentle breakers, and settled in for a good read. At first I kept my robe on, but as the morning approached noon, and the temperature climbed, I shed the robe, put the book down, and lay back enjoying the gentle tingling sensation of the sun on my skin. I always have been a sun worshipper.

Later in the afternoon, after returning to the condo, I wrote this poem.

Sun Child

Old man whose back is broken
Your blind child staring out
Looks into the mirror
But only remembers
The sea-sparkling waves
And running bare foot on squeaking sand.

Old man whose back is broken
With your warm emerald green water-memory
Counting one to ten
Over and over,
White noise of consciousness
Trap like wanting the thing.

Old man whose back is broken
Lambent breeze caressing flesh
The child’s smooth skin
Traded for leather
Stretched parchment document
First of many layers around no thing.

Old man whose back is broken
Go back to the sea.



E-mail me at ZacSfuts@aol.com

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