jarcher54

IN MEMORIAM TRACY LAMAR WYATT

 

Tracy's not here right now

No tellin' what he's up to

Maybe he's gone to visit Ross

And help him build a bass

 

Or maybe he and Overall

Are someplace playing golf

Or he's gone out on Lime Kiln Road

Picking Rhonda flowers

 

He could be down on Hopkins Street

Combing through yard sales

Digging deep through every box

To find his mom a treasure

 

He may have said let’s blow this town

And waste the day with Tim

Or head on out to Maxwell

For Alida's spaghetti sauce

 

He could be swimming at the Falls

Ducking when Lois drives by

Or gone with Bill to Pleasanton

To prime a stripper well

 

Likely he's out at grandma's place

Exploring with Travis and Hoss

Or sneaking by Diego's' shack

To leave a sack of pecans

 

Tracy’s late, we're not surprised

He's busy -- don't know where

He has important things to do

And friends to visit there

 

Comments2

  • Goldfinch60

    Sounds like a remarkable person and a very good friend. Good words Jarcher.

    Andy

  • Neville


    sadly and ever so.. but necessarily so .. this poem is quite like your dear friend Tracy .. not at all quiet, but larger than life and crammed with all manner of things loved, simple, profound remembered and useful.....

    • jarcher54

      Yes, he was restless, seldom finished anything, had good intentions that failed to materialize, let you down out of distraction and inability to focus. He needed help as a young man and did not get it. His dad put no store in therapy and that sissy lot, wanted him to just be a man, tough it out. And he was a mess. But he was always busy, always into something new, had all sorts of friends and adventures, and in many ways I envied his day-to-day freedom.



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