How Could He Know
He laughed that booming joy we knew so well,
And gestured with happiness he could give.
He told stories that only he could tell -
How could he know he had two hours to live?
We fished the mountain stream for Rainbow trout,
And planned the campfire's cooking he loved so.
He told his tale of what fishing's about -
We couldn't know he had one hour to go.
We sat and listened to the crackling fire,
And planned to talk until the breaking dawn.
He told a tale and I called him a liar -
He laughed and said, "Oh Lord!", and he was gone.
Perhaps the grief will ease, or perhaps not -
Maybe as brothers this will be my lot.
8/1/2017
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