To Miss a Lummox

By lupus tenebrae

 



Blue is true, as are words,
handed, gifted, by wisdom itself.
Old and wise, a familiar tune,
and he fit the bill, the lummox.

My West Virginian flame
only knew famous last words,
and the tips of the glacier,
were but a mile too short.

Humbleness befell me,
like every robin nesting above
the limbs on memory lane,
just off the beaten path of Maine.

Too late, and I never even asked,
where this nameless library was,
as surely, its books must be ancient
but charming, and rustic.
 

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2012 lupus tenebrae
Published on Monday, April 2, 2012.     Filed under: "Personal" and "Poetry"

Author's Note:

The first tribute, didn't really seem to get the point across, for me at least.
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Comments on "To Miss a Lummox"

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  • Lux On Sunday, August 25, 2013, Lux (308)By person wrote:

    The Klot held meaning for us all, even as a new member when he had only recently passed. I wrote a tribute to him and this itself puts all memories to shame. I wish I could have known him better, for the words given are never as memories have been. Heartfelt, honey. ~I miss you, you mean ole Opklot~

  • dwells On Sunday, April 29, 2012, dwells (4513)By person wrote:

    I commented on his poem where he was searching for that old library, and then he was gone...

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