A man of many talents and trades
Roamed all over this country for a while 
Many a years before I was ever even a thought 
He tells me stories of his past life and then some
A farm boy, work hand, welder, coal-miner
Uranium mine well-digger, (that’s legit)
Lineman, telephone company worker
College student and computer programmer 
Son, brother, husband, grandfather 

Sometimes when he talks of yester years
Or drops the needle to hear the crackle 
On a particular favorited vinyl, his eyes light up
I can’t help but wonder where in time he goes 
He never shares those times aloud with me
One thing is sure in that moment, he isn’t here
I am certain when he gets to the end of this timeline
I’ll find him in the next combing through vinyls 
In the back of some record store in the middle of nowhere 
Or maybe on the third saddle at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar
In Jackson Hole, after he made the train sing a folk song
He might be in the back of a rundown diner in Ohio
Dropping his last quarters in the jukebox 
Where ever I find him, I’m certain
Music will follow him, just like his name. 
My Dad.