for someone that’s not in your country.

letter sixteen of a thirty-day challenge. this one's for my adopted uncle.

uncle harley-

i don't even know where you are right now.
you don't even know the person i am right now.
but i miss you, because you lit up my childhood.
i remember your jeep, and getting stuck in the mud.
all those hills are covered in condominiums now.
i remember my sister sitting on your shoulders,
patting your head over and over.

but that was a long time ago.
hell, you might not even be bald now.
you might not even have a motorcycle anymore.
but, you know, you'll always be uncle harley.
you should stop by and visit.
i think you'd be proud of who i've become.