Montana and Ol' Joe

He lived down by the corner
of Belview and Harrison Lane.
Used to be if you went down there
most days you'd find him
puttering about in the sun.

He wore a smile on his face
like it was the crown jewels;
never saw him without it
except the day Montana died. 

He loved that old dog. 

After that it seemed strange,
seeing him walking all alone,
still whistling every few steps
but the dog no longer hobbled 
along behind. 

He said he named the dog Montana
because that's where he was going
to settle down some day,
just as soon as the time was right.

His dreams were even bigger than his smile.

A while after Montana died
I had lunch with Ol' Joe,
lounging on the grass in the sun,
listening to the birds sing 
while he cooked over an open fire.

Soon I'm goin' to Montana,
he said, watching a cloud float by.
I didn't have the heart to tell him
that I was sure it would never be so. 

But I was wrong. 

Ol' Joe died before winter,
a blessing in disguise I suppose
since it was the worst winter in years
and a cardboard box
doesn't keep an old man very warm.

Now I know what he meant that day
and when I look up I'm sure I can see 
Ol' Joe smiling, whistling as he walks
with his Montana




august 2005
ŠJanet Reid





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