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Barney of Mayberry
Taking time to cry for one who made us laugh

by Greg Asimakoupoulos
February 26, 2006

Andy's tailor alters his only suit
transforming it from a wedding one
to one befitting a funeral.

Gomer's pile of discarded Kleenex
grows more mountain-like
by the moment.

It's all because Barney's fife
remains in its case
having sounded its last note.

The community band
of trumpets and tubas,
of clarinets and flutes
will never seem the same.

Yes, Mayberry's loveable deputy
has turned in his badge for good.
The carefree tar-heel town
is jailed by sorrow today.

Aunt Bea and Otis
and Goober and Floyd
are searching in vain for the key.

It's no wonder
Mayberry's resident whistler is silent.
Even Opie's at a loss for words.
But then, so are the rest of us.

Those big bulging eyes
and high piercing voice
won our innocent hearts
in a much simpler time.

But that was then
and now is now.

The death of Don knots our guts.
It lumps our throats.
The one who made us laugh so loud
now causes us to cry.

Peace to your memory, Barn.

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