I Remember Jerry best at work
Two drawknives
A peavey
And an ax
A tractor trailer load
Of spiles
Oak trees
From up north
We’d bark
Me a teenage
Local kid
Him a father
Fresh from San Miguel
He came with Bernadette
And the girls
Work for Manuel Santos
In the cemetery
Yardwork
For rent
Bob snatched him up
For Morgan Marine
I signed on
Fresh from high school
As Grant and Carbon
Took the reins
Building docks
Setting blocks
Bulkheads
All that stuff
Jerry didn’t drive
Didn’t drill
Didn’t use power tools
They scared him
Old world Azore man
Rather work by hand
He learned to drive
At Grant’s Pit
Barking spiles
He’d drive my car
Clarance Barry’s
54 Caddy
He was short
Behind the wheel
Floating over
Big Katama
Thank you man’s
When he died last week
I did the math
Jerry was just 32 or so
Back in 1970
When we raced
To bark the most
Both of us
To prove
Who we were
So many tows
And piers
and jobs
Between us now
I’d see him as the years
Slipped by
And always
Deep within those eyes
So dark
And strong
And full
Of what it takes
To make it work
Before he died
I ran into my friend again
Bob Morgan’s Funeral
Was the time
We shook
And sighed
And laughed
And said
All those wordless things
We shared
I did get to say
I had his drawknife
In the shop
Always sharp
It stays
Ready for an oak
To peel
Just like in the day
— Steve Ewing
Comments
Comment policy »