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Don Keihl; A Real Alaskan

Written by Dee R. Lunbeck

My neighbor, Don, they said he’d die

From whiskies and from beer

But they were wrong, he lost his life

In the springtime of the year.


On and Arctic lake, on virgin trail

Far from roads and cities

As Don would win where most would fail

His death, I guess was fitting.


For he’d done work of varied kind

Out wild in un-touched spance

It’s true he’d done much in his time

Worked hard where most men can’t.


His dozer broke down through the ice

Of a lake unmarked, unseen

Where all was white, at that site

Somehow that ice was thin.


Now Don was rough both hard and tough

And he’d cuss and curse his share

And I’d doubt Don much ever feared

When he’d go, then he got there.


Except that day his dozer dropped

Then quick Don left this world

And sad, for sure, just months before

Old Don had lost his girl.


Now I still wish that Don could stop

Say “hi Dee” one more time

He’d probably say I rant and rave

Though Don was friend of mine


Here’s what I’d say, part anyway

Though I know he’d answer me,

His words be short and quick that day

“Mind your own damned business Dee.”


I’d say, Hey Don, they all were wrong

‘bout your drinking’ just for starters

You didn’t drink to darn much booze,

But, Don, to damned much water.


Sure, I don’t know, how could I guess

Or try pretend with breath

What man might say, passed away

Into unending death


With that, enough of stupid stuff

And I’d quit with this my friend.

For you and many other known

I pray, the endings not the end.


With this P.S. in memory

You worked, I guess, to long

But still it’s true, at least for me

I wish you hadn’t gone.


Now I miss you stopping by my place

Since that day you left

Of all Gods great, big human race

~no more like you, I’d bet


Where very few across this world

Like Don, weighed gold in pounds

I don’t forget how it was said

“A lot of gold Don found.”


But what the heck and what the hell

You had to go away

~At least was not a lay-round death

for a man, the best, that day


Working far and breathing free

Crossing land, untouched

As far as death, guess that’s the best

For I’d say, Don, you were tough






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Dee R. Lunbeck

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