By: Steven Jakobi

for Wally

A bright blue morning,
clean and fresh after
the rain. An ordinary day
of ordinary lives and
ordinary tasks. Except

that you left us today.
A Wednesday in August.
Like any other Wednesday
during your 92 years. How many
Wednesdays would that make?

I knew you but a short while.
Time spent talking,
savoring Deb’s desserts.
Took you for short trips when you
could no longer drive.

We had unfinished business, old man,
the State Fair you’d never been to;
your old house to see one more time.
The car show in Buffalo.

If the measure of a man’s legacy is
how many lives he’s touched,
then you are a giant among men.
I will miss you, old friend.