To Bill Hull -My Dad The world didn't stop to welcome you,
No sunrise sparkled brighter,
No thunder clapped,
No trumpet sounded at your birth,
You were just born.
You grew to love, to live,
To fish back country ponds, summer streams,
To work, to marry,
To raise a family,
To retire to loneliness,
To find yourself
Within yourself, the woods you loved.
Your friends were trees,
As were the birds, the clouds and flowers.
When you were down, you looked up
To her, your love - Annie.
Your joy was in a tenor voice to guitars
Kitchen barber shop singsongs,
And cowboy yodeling.
You knew your time.
No bugle sounded at your death,
The world paid no respects
But we wept there beneath tall trees
Where you were laid to rest,
Where mother finally saw you home
And peace was finally yours.
The trees, the fish, the clouds
Will all remember you
As I.
W.C.Hull © July 22, 2000
|
