Scott had a way of looking at life ajar.
He loved preparing fine food.
He found a soul in Hickory Hill I could never find.
He asked questions, Why?
But never faltered when they weren’t answered.
He lived a life inside his stride
Without much guilt or blame.
Life grants us Scotts from time to time
Rarely
And how they will be missed.
And why turn on a shower hotter than you’ll want?