Darrell has left the building

Darrell Keefer –
husband, father, grandpa
friend,
18 wheel trucker
an animal of a cyclist
a man's man

the clown
joke mates we were
connoisseurs of the lewd
he was an animal on the bike
I'd pull one mile
he'd pull two

only 2 weeks
did I have the privilege
of knowing him

his transparency
so comforting
such consistency

angry when he'd get a flat
throwing his tools around
cursing

overjoyed at such simple things
watching 40-Year-Old Virgin
on tv
the night prior
laughing so hard

he pushed so hard that day
a brutally tough 125 miler
with awful winds
so he could get to Chichasha
to see his son, daughter-in-law, grandson
I could only hang with him
the first 35 miles to sag #1
off he blasted

that night, his beaming mug
so huge
pulling everyone aside to introduce
his natural family to his cycling family

his joy infectious
his strength legendary
his simplicity inspiring
a beautiful, powerful, foibled,
lovely, generous, tenacious man

Darrell died in his sleep that night
I joke with him - inner conversation
he on the other side
that he was too chicken to do the
145-miler,
a wuss
so he left his body

He laughs and pulls ahead
far ahead
and I can't catch him