Willie

I wrote this poem for my Uncle Willie

Who was physically a cripple

And spiritually a giant

Willie was a man without fame

Hardly anybody knew his name

Crippled and limping

Always walking lame

He said, "I keep on moving

Moving just the same."

Solitude was the climate in his head

Emptiness was the partner in his bed

Pain echoed in the steps of his tread

He said, "I keep on following

Where the leaders led."

♪

He said, "I keep on moving."

"I may cry and I will die

But my spirit is the soul of every spring

Watch for me and you will see that I'm present

In the songs that children sing."

People called him "Uncle," "Boy," and "Hey"

Said, "You can't live through this another day."

Then they waited to hear what he would say

He said, "I'm living in the games that children play."

♪

He said, "I keep on moving."