One day when I am old and gray
Memories of dad will be as fresh as today
And folks might see me
On a cold night and windy
Walking through this town
With my head bowed down
Doing what I do now—always remembering.

And passing by the blue gray house
As quiet as a mouse
I would stop and stare
Smell the coffee in the air
In reverence of the man
Who once lived there.

Then up Kansas Road and to the right
Past the flag pole and under the light
Of a red brick building
Host to a hundred ghosts
Who still sit listening
To a voice—his voice
Though silent will speak
Their preacher
My best friend and teacher

Looking ahead I would be looking back
An old man yet still a boy
So full of joy
At what he had given me
Not just the memory
But a legacy—
He showed me the Father.

Year after year and slipping by
With slower pace and dimming eye
I would pass by that place again
And listen to the wind—his voice
Did you make the right choice?
The old man would look up at the moon
And hum out a tune
That sings of forever.
Andrew Dabar