The Legend of Geary, (December 15, 2003)
On this Friday past, his words rang clear,
He’d not fallen down, not once all year!
He’d not hit the pavement, nor spilled in the mud,
We’d never once saw him, knee covered in blood.
On ice he’d not slipped, not once had he stumbled.
No stump had he tripped, not once had he tumbled.
Over rocks and through ditches, he’d tramp and he’d romp,
Through muck and through marshes, he’d steadfastly stomp.
Through New Way, through Ravenswood, and through Dogtown Proper,
he wouldn’t go down, and if Jenn did - he’d hop her.
But this Sunday last, Forest Lane we all tramped,
We slipped, splashed, and fumbled, still resilient he stamped,
When suddenly from behind was a Thump!
I first thought it nothing, but then heard an Ummph!!
I turned and I saw in the snow a large figure.
He’d fallen, he’d pancaked, he’d taken a Digger!
On his end Dave had fallen, on his ass did he land,
The streak now was over, and to us this was Grand.
-Rick Ciolino
