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Cold December on Middle road

Brother of five, Father of one

Gave a sinner's grace to the clouds

and an empty space behind the wheel



Down at the smokey state-line pub

where his seat remains vacant til this day

The eyes stay wet as do their throats

But every boast and toast wont bring Scoop back



Years went by and still they go

that old black Dodge has long since rusted away

flowers look down at thier gentle giant of a friend,

whos strong arms left many shoulders cold



And his face still stares from a shelf

out of many houses,at those he left behind,

those who knew him as Robert,but mostly Big Scoop

but the praising memories and words....

Wont Bring Scoop back



Dedicated to my father,

James Robert "Scoop" Caldwell, Jr.

1957-1993