“If he were here life wouldn’t
Be so trying.” Her words flew
Two thousand miles to reach
Me and arrived unruffled.

“He would laugh aloud at these
Troubles of ours and say,
‘Let’s go to the Dairy Queen.’”
His hot-fudge malt diversion,

Straw-stuck with extra malt, he
Attempted a brave reprieve.
We knew it was not enough
To relieve his heavy heart.

“I’d rather see someone laugh
Than cry.” A smile, a wink, his
Owl eyes resigned as the sun
Set on his disillusion.

Years of nesting in hollow
Trees and surmounting barren
Hills left his once high spirits
Nearly tethered and grounded.

Only in dying did he
Find warm air; his spirit seemed
To soar as he sang his last
Song. With one final glance he

Winged away, his legacy
Full plumed with hope undying.
I smiled. “If he were here
Life wouldn’t be so trying.”