BUCKY

I remember laughing until I

wept; and my sides hurt,

then my heart ached

***

The great athlete, undersized

Ice hockey scrapper who

Would beat the hell out of

You on a basketball court

Behind the junior high, shouting

“let’s go big boy!”

***

His lower lip bulging,

In full concentration

While he threw a

Wiffle ball as though

Our lives depended on it

***

The decent guy taking care

Of mentally challenged kids over

At Cardinal Cushing

Bruised arms and shoulders his

Reward

***

The good friend who visited

Mom, while I was at war;

And when it was over he waved a flag

When I came home

***

The funny bastard who secretly

Drank virgin Mai Tais

Urging me to keep up,

Until I threw up

****

At West Island college

Party madness, he coldly

Grabbed a bottle and

Insisted he would eat the

Worm; only to lay down,

Incoherent in a crowded room

***

More interesting than he ever

Got credit for; always

Reading, discussing politics

And arguing sports until dawn

***

The bad influence who

Insisted we could drive

From North Adams at 2 am

When we had no business,

We changed a tire

On the Mass Pike with a

State Trooper; and it was

Fun; because we made it

***

The man who loved Christmas

A gift-giver and a visitor

Who liked to watch Rankin-Bass

And yes, he cried at the end

of A Wonderful Life

***

The Patriot who embraced America

Star-Spangled love affair

With 4^th of July bursts of

Light, chomping a cigar

And no time for anyone not

Red, White, and Blue

***

The late bloomer, like me

After everyone had gone

He kept me hopeful, when the world passed me by –

We found another world

***

That world where Jim Morrison

Was always singing

And Friday night was always

Close

***

That world where friends

Gathered to listen to

Each other and laugh in

The face of any agony

***

A world of home runs,

Of family hope, that dashed

Any thoughts other than joy;

Of Red Sox dreams and

Laughter, always laughter

***

Then, he went away with

A heart too big to beat

Forever

Taking unspoken conversations

With him; except in dreams

I am still with him,

And we drink cold beer and

Solve all of, and none of

The world’s problems

***

Everything wrong is right again

Powder Point day of

Endless sunshine and this

Day will never end

Until he stands up and

Must be going, alone

***

“But Chaz, I promise

I’ll see you tomorrow”

***

Copyright © 2021 cjcheetham

Sean “Bucky” Keane was the dearest of friends and we lost him 16 years ago. Hardly a day goes by where I don’t think of him. the memories he left me with I cherish. I am so very thankful to have known him. I will never fully get over the loss of this great man. i tried for years to write an essay or story about him – but all I could muster was this stream of consciousness poem. I loved the guy.