for mike

there were long days
you'd sit on the tractor
and yell back to us
"yr doing a helluva job."
laugh.
and we'd run behind stacking bales.
not really minding
the sweat stinging our eyes
the aching muscles
sapped of strength.

though you were not my dad
you were a father to me.
there was that brilliance about you
when you knew what you were doing
(and sometimes when you didn't)
and we used to feed off it.
you'd get a hankering
to construct something
and we'd stop our
video games/reading/eating
and come out and be yr farmhands.

you taught me the redneck work ethic
the one that says you don't stop.
ever.
you showed me that my hands
weren't just for writing
and i actually could
build things.

and now that you aren't
ever going to give me shit again
when you find me in yr kitchen
devouring everything i see
or sleeping on the couch
in the middle of the day
i just wanted to say
that i'd miss you dearly.

you were a man.