What are the words,
to say goodbye?
Shall we all be high boys,
waiting for the end?
A calm perspective,
Is worth... what?
Hysterics?
not helpful, maybe not
A recap of the shared life?
Not possible
The end cannot be a coda.
It is the ebbing,
Almost gone, already.
Ah, could we not run one more time?
Show them how it should be done.
Check in with Joe Zambone,
A call for Mike at the square
to exit Stride, and play
Polka Dots and Moonbeams.
Or applaud Ed Wettland...
or Jim Lowe.
Offer a bottle of good wine
to some winsomes.
A Ridge Zinfandel, perhaps.
Even then, to the Saloon,&Johnny Nitro,
And the final stop,
Gino and Carlo.
Leaving a trail of big tips along the way.
Standing tall,
If only briefly.
So long, pal
Bill McIntyre, June 2012
(Poem to my father by his longtime friend and confidante, Bill.) At sundown tonight, we will light the candles I received from Robin and Roger on this, the anniversary of his last California sunset.
