They all call me Uncle Jimmy
but I do not know why.
None of them are a relative of mine.
I started hearing them call me that
when I was found out
to be living just on the outside of town
where I have been for 62 years.
For the first time in my life
I had to leave the little farm
that has been here for generations
and make my way into town.
On the farm, I have gardens
full of vegetables and a small pasture
that provides all the meat needed.
So I never have to leave this comfort.
That all ended when I got a letter
and a visit from a businessman.
I did not fully understand.
The words kind of all ran together on me.
The town buildings looked so different
than the last time I was here.
Last time there were more dirt roads
and not as many wires or people.
I walked into a banking building
that looked familiar to me.
One of the people explained
that my visitor was there
to take my home away.
I did not understand,
I was born there.
They explained that the land was squatted
and the people that said they owned it
were trying to take advantage of me
and my limited education.
I had no idea if the land was mine or theirs.
When the townsfolk got wind of this
and what may happen
to this future homeless person,
the citizens surrounded me
to protect against being taken advantage
until I could keep my home, land and all.
Never knew people even knew
that I was alive where I was.
The outpouring of fight for me
makes these old bones feel good.
They periodically come by the yard
to see if this old man needs anything.
The kids started calling me Uncle Jimmy
though they are not relatives of mine.
Sure brings a grin to this withered face.
April 6, 2017
© Andrew Scott - Just A Maritime Boy 2017