Cleaning out my fathers house
an old scarf left in there
Plaid and blue of Cashmere wool
one he loved to wear
Hanging in a wardrobe at the
house where he once lived
Stumbled on while packing up
his rites the last to give
As the winter deepens i now
wrap it ’round my face
Breathing in the scent he left
outside his resting place
Walking out into this winter’s
frigid snow and wind
Wearing his old scarf i feel
I’m not so far from Jim ~
Lions Mane 