Some claim a man’s measure
lies in something tangible;
stature, strength,
fame, fortune.
I find none of these
to be a fitting yardstick.
I measure Harry’s worth
by his stories shared;
comedies, tragedies,
dramas, histories.
Within these saga
of adventure gone awry,
whether joyous, humble,
painful, proud,
of good times, or Ill,
I found his humanity,
well hidden
behind gruff temperament,
masked by mumbled words,
infused with vital spirit,
and most profanely punctuated.
It’s not despite these flaws,
so much as because of them,
that his life of love and loss,
dangers and trials,
hardships and misadventures,
resonate within my soul
and remain with me forever.
Godspeed my old friend.
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