Uncle Steve

My uncle died this morning.
We had coffee on his porch together a few years ago
He comforted my broken heart that day
He sat silently saying nothing with me for hours
He looked long at me
He chose his words wisely
He made every sip count
He was tender
He was all loving
He knew when to stay away
and when to be there
for our family
He loved my aunt dearly
He showed me how to grow apple trees
He taught me the philosophy of growing apple trees
He told me, "in fact, it's quite the contrary,
an apple does fall far from the tree."
He lived a simple, rich, quiet life
and brewed beer like a monk
He loved you with a quiet, stone-like solid sincerity
We drank his beer all day and never felt drunk
We ate his apples until we were full
I didn't see him much over the years
but when you lose sight of a real friend
they'll still be the same, when you see them again.
Here's to you John Steven,
May the Lord's peace carry you home
dear friend.