He was a western man, say the boots
laying on top of starched blue jeans;
a well rounded man too, says the Macbook
sitting on the desk in his serene study;
and a hard working southern boy,
say the muddy jeans in the musty mud room;
but not a man to care about appearance,
says the dusty Ford pick-up sitting in the drive.

His parents lived with him, says the lettering
on the black gate and the wedding
pictures on the wall; he had two grown
brothers, sat the trophies in the lifeless
rooms down the hall. They lived a
comfortable life says the pool in the
backyard, and the yellow ski boat in
the rickety barn; it was a lively home
say the numerous cars parked in the
circle drive.

This was a happy family say the fresh cut
flowers in numerous vases, and the
beautiful manicured landscapes.
Cattle in the pastures say they were ranchers,
but the ranch hands and cowboys say this is
not a full time job; the aroma of fresh
baked food say the the mother was
a full time mom.
This was a joyous place, people
enjoyed being here.