My old buddy Nardo died on February 28th.
I call it St. Nardo’s Day.
To mark the anniversary of his passing.
I go to the local Cajun restaurant.
And get a bucket of crawdads.
Nardo loved the smell of crawdads on my fingers.
And whatever I couldn’t eat.
I’d peel and bring home in a cup.
He’d snap them up and beg for more.
“All gone, all gone.” I’d say.
He still wanted more.
Myst and Tinny doesn’t like crawdads.
So whatever leftovers I have this time.
I’ll toss in the grass.
For the strays to enjoy.
In his memory.