He said his name was Justin Case, which seemed a wee bit odd
Because he was so cavalier, so spiffy and so mod.
When buying socks or shoes or gloves, he always bought three pairs
He didn’t want to end up short as he came down the stairs…
just in case
When traveling on a train or bus he purchased fares for four
And even though he had these seats, he stood right by the door.
He owned a house or two or three but lived in only one
He had a car, a truck, a jeep, an epee and a gun…
just in case
His mother used to say to him “How did you get this way?”
He’d say to her with great respect, “I’ll answer that some day.”
And off he’d go to run and play, and gather stones and rocks
He’d store them neatly row by row inside a wooden box…
just in case
He’s older now and wiser too, he’s free of pride and strife
He reads and writes and thinks and prays about an after life.
He sees the need for only one of all he once did own
Because he knows that where he’ll go, he’ll have to go alone.
Justin Case
by Anne Duggan
