Uncle Rod

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[Written on 26 February 1996, not long after his death. I just found this in an old pocket notebook.]
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I took a walk
in memory of Uncle Rod.
I just wanted to be alone.

It’s a late February thaw;
the snow cover is thin;
the trail muddy.
Brooks everywhere are full,
singing loud, starting out from
the high Pennsylvania hilltops
on their steady journey
down to the sea.

Nietzsche asked:  “What is noble?”
So did Uncle Rod.
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[Written on 28 February 1996.]
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I took a hike
in honor of Uncle Rod.
I just wanted to be alone.

A day and a half
of rain and melt.
The streams are roaring.
A new snowstorm just started,
whitening the world.

I never had a chance to go
with Rod on his famous hikes.
Never had the wind nor the wings,
being a farm boy on the flats.
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-Zenwind.
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