I don't know if Leo Cooper, the real Leo Cooper, has an Uncle, Ray or otherwise. I assume not. Don't take it personal, we are all Leo Cooper.
Leo Cooper was at his weird Uncle Ray's place,
For the afternoon.
Weird uncle Ray was as old as dust.
As old as lies.
As old as treachery.
Leo Cooper and weird, old Uncle Ray,
Were digging graves,
In the back garden.
"Not so shallow!" barked Uncle Ray.
"Make the walls even!" demanded Uncle Ray.
Leo Cooper dug graves all afternoon.
Not too shallow,
Not deep enough to disguise,
What always would be.
Hands blistered,
Face streaked with mud and sweat,
Leo Cooper sat with weird Uncle Ray,
Watching the summer sunshine fade into the end of the day.
Slowly sipping cold, tall, sweet lemonade,
Each lost in thoughts of their own.
