“Want to whole lotta love”, you said.
Boots and belt and all,
With arms stretched wide,
To cool off the strain,
You waded and walked,
Into the Mississippi.
The water abreast, you remembered the Led,
You thought of the words father never said.
A radio and a guitar,
Pulled in by lingering tugboat,
You vanished underwater,
A Scorpio turned a Piscean.
The creek gurgled with sadness,
For six moons, she carried you.
Lights faded in the heart’s lamps,
A “grace” had been uttered-
A last Hallelujah from your lovely lips.
- For Jeff