He was born in 1924
And at 17 went to war.
Parachuted over Sicily,
Wounded, sent home to live in civility.
One day he met a Ryder,
Tall and elegant and regal.
Married her and made a home,
Though the front lawn lacked a gnome.
He died before I could really know him.
But what I remember is this:
His heart was good and full of love,
Tender, strong and not at all rough.
He pulled quarters from my ears
Whenever I saw him.
He and Shadow walked the beach
For miles before a swim.
He smoked cigars and drank beer
While playing cribbage.
And he was my favorite person
When I was four years old.
