Goodbye Keith

From a polite distance
I went to say goodbye
to my mother’s sister’s
hearty husband who
worked hard and raised
spirits around him.

When a good man is gone
he’s not gone if he leaves
behind a few men and
women whose good lives
can outshine and cut through
a moonless dusk.

Behind whiteness of pallor
I can hear him asking
What you take upon yourself
as task or responsibility
are you going to do it
half-assed or seriously?

How now are our memories.
Small children see the world
on the shoulders of uncles
not looking back from
their careening forward.
Older ones do however.

When the organ music plays
when people in pews recall
moments over the years
will it feel big or small?
What will the hymn say
to pausing survivors?


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
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