Black whiskers
With streaks of silver
And grey.
You were always teaching me
To rise above the fray.
And when I’d tell you about
My dark and uncertain days,
While we drove those wooded
Back country roads
You’d look over at me
And start singing; “I’ll Fly Away”
With that sparkle in your eyes
And mischievous grin
Behind your black
Whiskers with streaks
of silver and
Grey.
And now you have to fly away…
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