CRICKETS IN THE GRAVE FLOWERS
by James. G. Goode
When an old man dies,
A  library burns to the ground…”
Sometime, somewhere,
Someone repeated that African proverb to me.
I think of that and feel
The hollowness in the sound
Of these crickets hiding in  the grave flowers.
Homeless,
I wander across desolate  plains…
Fatherless now,
I must realize that he will  not step from behind the barn;
That when I hear a strange noise and turn quickly
To see him there
I will never be quick  enough;
I will no longer touch the  bristles on his face.
His hands were strong and veined.
I see them now,
At once, gone…
Once  again, everywhere.
They  touched this cabin wood,
This  Chestnut sprout,
This  Hickory bark,
These rough sawed boards.
Here, they rested on my  youthful head
And firmly grasped my hand  as a young man.
They touched this earth,
Raking  in toil across the stones.
Say goodbye,
The Hemlocks whisper…
Say goodbye,
The Oaks echo.
His  eyes will never again see Pink Lady’s Slipper bloom in May.
Say goodbye,
Say goodbye…
I cannot say goodbye.
I cannot say goodbye these  Autumn days
When I ache from the loss.
I cannot say goodbye
As my symbol shuffles  through the Maple leaves
Washing  across this gray Earth.
He  laughed,
But I never saw him weep.
He walked where flowers  bloomed;
Spoke native languages in  Haiku…
Brief messages of  complexity found in simple things.
I studied him like the university he was…
Earned several degrees under  his thick eyebrows ---
Sometimes  eagerly lapping the lesson,
Sometimes resistant.
But a well disciplined student who listened with him
To Pheasant wings beating a  woodland drum;
To Crickets under his  hearthstone;
To the angry bee buzzing  out of the Catalpa bloom;
To  the music made by leaf colors falling…
A student who watched small birds search the snow;
Tall ridges comb the clouds;
Roses strive in vain;
Cloud ships in the sky;
Mules thinking of oats;Dogwood blooms falling on  blue pond waters…
Today  the library burned
And  I felt it useless to start another.
But he would have demanded it.
“Look at the volumes you already have!” He’d say.
“Rebuild, rebuild, rebuild!”
This beautiful poem was  sent to me upon the death of my father, Lloyd G. Frey, by Carolyn Frey  Rasmussen's daughters, Lenore Robbins, Laura Jean Frey and Dearwyn  Woodbury.