Page 26
By Jack Joseph Smith
Kin
On the run is not damaged, once again,
sorrow can be a good song
Don't slight yourself my friend
You are as good as anybody elses end
your foot has not a side to be fond or far
Listen to yourself after long sleep
Wait and watch and run into the middle,
of a rainbow, its ends will let you,
make a joke in the meadow, because getting
there is only the first part of leaving twice
The sky and stars are fire taking away form
As meladous as a harp without wings
Your spirit so silent is the wish of this soft song
Again to sing hardly seen and hardly heard
Through this universe, your great choice and subtle
thought, has left you alone
And speaking is not my forfit
My mind would have nothing to do,
with gracious gallons of whiskey,
if my stomach was for it
So Uncle, I'll take your gift and use it
Like an heir should
And remember in your lonely death
In this abstraction
Your work without family,
was correct with the last of your math