In the month of the icy heart
Came the passing of the Good One

He started a man of the Land
Grew strong in body and mind
With a will of granite.
And a heart of love.
And over the years
He lived and learned,
He fought the strife
And risks,
To acquire for the Young Ones
A life of hope and success.

And, too, the Young Ones grew,
And one by one went forth
To find their lives.
And so came the Small ones.
Still the Good One worked.
He worked to give,
And to live.
And the world was made better.

But then, with the Young Ones grown
And the Small Ones big,
Terror came,
And the Good One was struck down.

Then in the month of the new ice
Came the passing of the Good One

And as he was given to the Earth
The ice came forth again.
The Earth wept out its fury
And cried in the wind of grief
For the death of a man.
While the Young Ones cried
And the Small Ones stood silent,
The whole of Nature wept
And let its fury cry
For the Good One gone.

And so, while with the Great One,
The life of the Good One goes on
In his works,
And remembered deeds,
And in the lives and success
Of those he inspired.

Good bye to the
Good One.
I love you.

Robert F. Carberry
June 9, 1904
January 22, 1986