GONE

GONE

Seventy months have come & gone since
You were called home by God
Seventy months without your music
Is a very long time, Rod;
We haven't even played cards much
No-one's played your old guitar
It sits alone inside your room
A room that's fit for a star.

Minnie made that room a shrine
She said she felt you close
The grave was cold & lonely
Like a silent, frozen ghost;
But in the room she made for you
She'd sit and feel you near
She said "It's like he's saying:
Stay awhile with me, dear."

But the room will not be used
As she will soon join you
And then you'll be together
No longer feeling blue;
Flowers I'll put on your grave
For both of you asleep
Seventy months or seventy years
You'll still see & hear me weep.