Uncle Archie

My friend lay alone with violin

pressed against his lifeless chest.

Folks gathered saying the things

people say to the dead.

Doesn’t he look nice,

he’s in a better place,

whose idea the violin, nice touch.

I’ve known him for so many years.

I would’ve liked to seen

that burled oak fiddle pressed against his chin

playing “Amazing Grace” or some lonesome

Neil Young or Willie Nelson.

I’d preferred to see his crooked smile

laughing at his sour B flat.

I know him.

Instead of a funeral dirge

Alison Krauss would make us all sing.

Dolly Parton might have made him

rise from the casket to do the jitterbug.

Oh hell, even Susan Tedschi and the Truckee Band

could have rock those stiffs staring up to heaven.

Heaven?

That aint for me

I’m thinking I’ll find John and George

chilling at some eternal beach

Gin and Tonic for me,

Brandy for the boys

with their best friend Maggie McGee.

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