Author’s note: I added story mentioned in poem below, to celebrate the author and his amazing talent early on. I was blessed to be accepted in the world of these five Marshall University grads. Thanks for reading, A.S.
We gathered the troops for one last time,
A respectable number, by your count or mine.
For two soldiers down, who gave it their all,
They followed the path, led the way, took the call.
The tall one, he lumbered into our first meeting,
A student by day, he impressed me at sixteen.
He killed the Gazette, wrote a gem of a story,
’Course I spoke in similes, my Coach in metaphors.
Three years later I’d be working, not far from his desk,
And a friendship began, hope I wasn’t a pest.
It wasn’t too long, we circled the country,
Eighty-five-hundred miles, three weeks, no worries.
I was on his old porch when the Jersey kid came,
He accepted me too, let me in, just the same.
His bag was tennis, so I hit him a few,
But to take just a game was a victory for Drew.
When the point guard-with-teeth, came back to town,
The wheels were all turning, he’d never back down.
We took in The Boss, down Lexington way,
And played us some hoops with Tom A. and Dan K.
Cherry crossed The Hall, and I got a beat,
The setting just right, destiny complete.
But the turn of the century brought ’bout some change,
Life as we knew it, God rearranged.
Now Yod and the wordsmith are in MU’s Hall,
But these verses I pen, ’cause I’m taking a fall,
My point guard and brother, though shaking a fist,
Should have been in the building, he sorely was missed.
The width of his berth, I still can’t believe,
Left town for the mountains, then on to the sea.
Took a bride and a cottage, on an island reprieve,
But in mind and heart, he’s absent without leave.