Avunculus

Proper handshake No string wrist Your iconic mustache harboring A giddy smile That stretched from Oregon to Maine Like your Harley once had I should’ve stirred more conversations My shyness stifling The words I wished to speak Tis why I write this As words flow poorly Unless my pen is to paper Your angelic being left an essential impact on me I long for you to see this from the afterlife As a poem is the truest form of gratitude I can offer Cancer’s viciousness peeled you away With invisible speed Like a spiraling tornado Leaving in its void A family searching for explanations Only to be met with the evil head of grief Your spirit carries on Through vast memories I hold Through countless lessons you engrained in me Through a sensational life lived When it is time to shake hands again My wrist will be firm Eye contact will be made And a proper handshake given