At the porch I can still hear you
and the not too loud noise of a rocking chair
reminding me of this joke we had
about those rednecks and their dreams
of staying there the whole day just to see
if the plain would change, and how I almost got emotional
when, alone, I realized it did
I can retrace the path there once was
now erased by grass as it used to
every summer but by wheat
I can walk down that stream and finish our dam
because only I knew that every night
I went down there to take out a few stones
so that our engineering wouldn't end
Those maybe the clues that held us
together for so long
As in "Life as your favorite pastime"
or "Being your own Sherlock Holmes".
You could never fix your father's pipe
and smoking didn't fit you
as well as it does me
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