You were the rock in my shoe
Sometimes irritating me beyond belief;
The rock that could never be found
Merely by removing the coverings on my feet.
You filled my receptive ears
With more corn than an Iowa farm-
I miss those silly, amusing jokes
And your keen observations,
Surely different than most folks.
You told me your story
Then pestered me until I wrote it in a book.
Ah! The things you caused me to do
The off the wall words you spoke
That gave my ego a dent,
Yet rarely said in anger
Never with malicious intent.
Then one morning I awoke
To find you no longer there-
Like a puff of smoke
You vanished into the clear air.
All that remains of you
Are memories and your last joke.
This morning, I walked barefoot
Down a gravel path
To feel the stones scrape against my feet
Trying to capture fleeting memories
Before they, like you are gone.