Duane Koukol: Goodbye, Joe
January 2, 2015
To the editor:
Many years ago with a little help from a friend,
We piled in the old blue van.
She said she knew where Joe lived.
We first stopped in Crawford, a little restaurant.
It was Joe's place. We asked the waitress, with a smile,
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"Is Joe in?" She said she hadn't seen him in a while.
We had burgers and fries.
My friend said, "Check out the back."
I walked into a Kiwanis meeting room.
But there on the dark walls.
With no lights, in utter silence.
"Oh, wow!" I think were the words I said!
I couldn't believe what I was seeing!
On dark paneled walls, gold, silver and platinum
Joe's legacy, hidden away in the dark.
Paying the waitress, still in a state of awe,
I drove down a plowed country road
To a 15-foot wall of snow.
A fancy open gate and a mansion in the trees
We tried to turn around with the old blue van.
"We're stuck in Joe's driveway — Oh, whee!"
As the mud-grips finally caught
Now on firm gravel road, I stopped.
A quarter mile out in a snowy meadow,
On the other side of the road from the house,
All by himself stood a big, black dog.
He crouched down, hiding in the fields of snow.
I looked at my friend, and whispered
"On one side lives an English man.
On the other, a mad dog, don't you know?"
Now on my way to Delta I see
The pointed mountain I call Joe's Mountain.
At least, that's what it is to me.
"Do I still figure in your life? Yes, Joe, and our goodbyes!"
And, if you are ever in Crawford,
Stop by, for burger and fries.