|This painting reminds me of my friend in the poem.|
I dedicate it to the life of my guide to good living since the early 1990s who died of a heart attack only last month at the respectable age of 83. I had asked him once if he took flight before me to the vast unknown eternal mystery to show me a sign that he was up there somewhere, not an obscure, mysterious sign that left me wondering was it so, like rustling leaves in a gentle breeze oh his birthday, but an obvious one, like his voice over the radio saying, "Hello, David, this is Nathan calling. How's everything in Lakewood?" He said he would if he could. I dreamed about him last night. What it was about I can't remember, nothing earth shattering though, but I wanted to write something about him. This evening gave me an opportunity.
In keeping with the behavioral focus of this blog, the poem covers the behavior class we call "coming out of the closet." I hope you enjoy it.
Nate the Great
"Nate the Great" I called you so,
The secret culture you would show,
A married man until she died,
And a thousand men you said you tried
Before the AIDS we came to know.
I came out. You helped me grow,
Mentor, confidant, bigger bro.
I asked you once before you died,
Please, Nate the Great,
Take a ball and make it glow
And shake your beard to make it snow,
A clear sign from the other side
That there's nothing more for you to hide,
That they love you there; there is no foe
From up above, my Nate the Great.