Beware the ‘Stache
© Rabbi Menachem Creditor
The guy with the mustache just wouldn’t let up,
though I used all my
tact to break free.
It seemed all he could say was “I speak for the trees,”
and he seemed mighty
interested in me.
So I followed him right past a rickety fence,
past tree stumps all
ringed with old stones,
and though we were steadily walking together,
I couldn’t help feeling
alone.
“A forest once grew here. Music once bloomed.
Birds, bears, and fish
did abound,”
he told me with sadness, “Here once was great gladness.
But now only gray
can be found.”
I couldn’t help thinking I’d heard this before,
a story or maybe a
dream,
with gruvvulous gloves, holes in clouds up above,
and gloppity-glop in
the streams…
His voice just droned on, and my eyelids grew heavy,
so I sat and I lay
down my head.
The truth is I just couldn’t handle the truth of this.
I really just wanted
a bed.
When I opened my eyes, and looked all around,
the guy with the ‘stache
wasn’t there,
But a voice said from everywhere
“unless you are ready to act –
not just listen – beware.”