AFTER THE COMBAT

AFTER THE COMBAT

And its dust,

the reward and rejuvenation

was the Prince Hotel

in far away Edinburgh

where I washed away

the mud with whiskey, neat

and was taught Snooker

a game of skill and chance

in the billiard room

by Charles, the fat Maitre D’

at one in the morning,

who lifting up his cue

finally after a master stroke,

looked up without smiling

and said:  “Ah, David,

you’re snookered.”

And I realize only now

Fifty years later

That said it all.