Recluse Poem by Phil Soar

He wore a hat most every day
To keep the flies and gnats at bay
He didn’t wash himself you see
And lived his life beside a tree
They called him an eccentric
He spent his time outdoors
He had no wired electrics
His bed was the forest floor
He didn’t have an appetite
For anything but tat
He kept a flask of berry tea
And his best friend was a bat
It kept him occupied at night
And kept the moths at bay
He didn’t have much he could do
And even less to say
He died alone but happy
And then he decomposed
His body reclaimed by the earth
From where he first arose