Happy Soul,
your funny jokes are slicing into my brain
like the rope on a bulls neck
But I can't recall why we lost touch

I do remember when your doctor
Would make you walk on your cane
And my cousin, my brother, and I
Would take the cane from by your seat
And use it as a race
Oddly, we’d all be the racers,
and you’d be sleep
Waking up stopping us from disturbing you
While you were taking your nap
I couldn’t be no older than 8
You, 70 years older and 50 times wiser
Over the years I’d please with my mama
To let me come stay at your house
I’d try to talk your “old way talk”
But I’ll always end up stuttering
As quick as a drum stick beating on a drum.