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
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