There you were. Guiding.
Always standing tall.
10′ with baton in hand
To a boy from you who
Watched you conduct life just as
The orchestra spread before you.
All knowing. All loving. All there.
Then not. Not sudden. But not still.
Vacancy as loud as any crescendo
You created by a nod and lifting,
Directing with your left hand.
And from what you gave and gave
Without regard. Because of right.
No fear of night just of loss,
For always was as should be
Tween the two, the you and she.
Except, now, the world still
Turns and spins, wobbling,
In your absence and shadow.
…for you 3/12/1931-4/28/05