I had a friend once by and by
whose name was Jonathan
McIntosh.
He was a roly-poly boy and
the apple of his mother’s eye.

I had a friend once by and by
whose name was Ida Red.
She was a bit or a tart and
always caught the boys’ eyes.

I had these friends once by and by.
Jonathan McIntosh married
Ida Red and all their children
were the apples of their parents’ eyes.

I had these friends once by and by.
Their boys were named
Red and the girls Ida.
The girls were tart and the boys
roly-poly but all lovely in
their parents’ eyes.

I had these friends who long ago moved away.
I get a card now and then and Ida, Jonathan
and all the kids are healthy and never sick
and swear that an apple a day
keeps the doctor away.

It was a blue, tin pistol that
creaked when he pulled back the
hammer and rubbed metal on metal
when he pulled the trigger but
it was light and easy to carry.
He can’t remember if there was a
holster to go with it, but there
was a really nice Indian headdress
with at least thirty feathers and
and a beautiful red band with tie
straps in the back, also a small
bow and several arrows with rubber
suction cups on the tips. It was
enough for a two-week vacation in
the North Woods. Years later, it
was a wool, crewneck sweater bought
at a sidewalk sale in Minocqua. The
following fall in his freshman year
and then every fall and winter through
high school he wore wool, crewneck
sweaters. He was known for that —
that and chukka boots.