The Good Man

I still see him, almost every day.

One warm morning, the sun just rising

A redbird calls outside my window

And I hear him whistle

The way he did another morning

Just to show me he knew

The song of the redbird, too.

And then he’d smiled.

And when I go to the river, I see him

Sitting on the edge of the boulder

That separates land from the shore

And makes it an island in the river.

“I can’t jump that far,” he’d said

“And neither can you.”

Then he’d laughed

Because I’d tried, anyway.

And he was right, I couldn’t

Jump that far either.

I landed in the water, then walked

Through the small rivulet of water

And onto the island in wet shoes.

We hear the hidden laughter

Of children, at the far end

Of the island, and he smiles.

He always loved the sound

Of children’s laughter

So, he’d climbed down from the boulder

Removed his shoes and waded

Across the shallow stream

“You shouldn’t have dragged me

So far into the wilderness,” he’d said

I’d shrugged a smile and he’d laughed.

And listen to the water.

It’s always quiet there,

And he’s always at my side.

But we walked to the end

Of the island and sat in the sun

On a broad granite boulder at the water’s edge.

We stayed there for hours

Listened to the birds and watched

Children play in the river, and

Jump from rock to rock.

In late afternoon, we left

And found an easier way

To cross back to shore.

I still go to that island often

And I sit on that same boulder

On the river’s edge at the end of the island

Alone now, but never alone.

Because I know he’s there, smiling

At the children’s laughter

And not laughing at me,

For landing in the water,

But smiling.

Now I sit on the deck

In the evenings, after work, and

Watch the sun set over the lake

Behind the house.

But never in the rockers on the porch

Where we used to sit

In the foolishness of youth, planning

Our future, thinking we’d grow old

Together.

With the late-day sun warm on my face

A soft breeze lifts my hair and I turn to him

And start to say

“This is beautiful, isn’t it?”

But I think it instead, because

I know he is there, beside me

Smiling at the dreams we had.

A good man never truly dies.

~ ~ ~

This was originally posted on Medium.

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