Crusty Old Uncle Fred

Blossoms fill the air in spring.

I don’t know the name of the tree

but, I like its fragrance

even though at times,

it makes me sneeze.

When spring comes around next year, I know

I can depend upon that sweet aroma


That smell is in my mind,

which is strange

things from the past

 like your mom’s old perfume

lingers in our noses.

Isn’t it nice when pleasantries repeat?

Isn’t it nice to be alive

when things go good?

Isn’t it hard when all the bad stuff

happens and we wonder why it happens to us

so much?

One day, it will be lights out.

as, we all will undoubtedly

take turns doing so.

and, will we go

to a place we are not sure

we can see things,

smell things,

eat things,

talk to our friends,

pet our pets,

talk to our loved ones,

drink a beer,

have a glass of wine,

send a birthday card,

and enjoy

another Christmas Turkey dinner?

We know we will surely miss

some of these

as we stretch in the mornings

to welcome a new


Please forgive me

and I

apologize in advance,

and I don’t intend being

so darned mean,


Even though we’ll probably miss his

little happy Pomeranian dog who’s always

so glad to greet us

jumping up in our laps

licking our cheeks so sincerely,

I surely have my doubts we’ll miss your

Uncle Fred

who smacks his lips with every bite he eats,

belches at the table,

has gas coming out the other end

(the silent but deadly kind that you know came from him because he always has that goofy smirk on his face as he eats at the dinner table where at least fifteen other relatives have to endure that disgusting smell without so much as a word, flinch and grimace)

and never uses underarm…

But, the list doesn’t stop there.

Not by a longshot.

But, you and I have a heart

because we are both decent



Out of respect,

for the sake of

crusty old uncle Fred

we will leave it at that.

we will honor the memory

of him sitting in front of that empty table setting

at the head of the table

 next holiday dinner

at your mom’s.

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