In the stillness of your heartbeat,
A mocking bird perches on the lip
Of the Koi pond, confuses a wisp
Of hyacinth for the cupped hands
Of the Lord calling you forth,
On this day of no wind or shadows,
A man like you who knew beauty
In sweet corn, okra, squash, black-eyed
Peas, who ate like a king most days,
Shared the glory of nourishment
With friends and strangers, like me,
Whose voice has no business
Of speaking this eulogy after the fact,
But the truth is that I ate of your food,
I felt the kindness of your hands,
The friendship in your eyes . . .
Who knows what roads lead us back
Through the thicket and trees
Of Eastman, Georgia or Las Villas,
Cuba? All I know is what I saw
In the sharing between friends
And family-this continuity of story
Through food, talk, the skill of hunting
Dogs. A man intent on living, loving.
In your passing now, you carry
Pocketfuls of seeds, go sprinkle them
In your long walk toward blue sky.
After the rains and so much memory,
They will sprout and bloom to welcome
us back into the red earth of Eastman.