To Nathaniel, on His Birthday

He’s Dutch, and Canadian: both blonde and blue-eyed,
He plays on pianos and national pride.
“You ain’t Dutch, you ain’t much,” he’d tell me with bias:
On the whole, I would say though, God sent him to try us.

He moved from Canadia to Franklin’s new college
His departure bewailed, to the best of our knowledge,
Only by those who awaited him there.
Yep. A pain in the butt. A regular square.

But for all that, I miss him; a best friend indeed,
A man who would listen in moments of need.
Happy Birthday! Good luck on this trip ’round the sun.
God bless. And God Speed.And gosh darn it, have fun.

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