Crazy Harry's Dance Poem by David Welch

In a town in southern Ohio
lived a man called Crazy Harry.
A weathered, old soul, all alone,
to children he appeared scary.
He had had a habit every midnight,
no matter the happenstance,
he climbed a hill behind his home
and Crazy Harry danced.

No one knew why he went up there,
but they didn't care too much.
They passed it off as antics of
and old man down on his luck.
But one day a girl named Sharon,
a hairdresser, wife, and mom,
decided she would learn the truth
of what was going on.

She started asking ‘round the town
to learn of poor Harry's past.
He once was called plain Harrison,
and taught high school shop class.
She learned that he was married once,
to one Helen Mildred Long,
a woman who has blessed his life,
who he would never wrong.

But the world can be a brutal place
an endless veil of tears,
a cancer took Harry's young wife,
before they'd made three years.
Harry, they say, went mad a this
and refused to leave his house.
For six whole months he cried and raved
for the loss of his poor spouse.

When he emerged he rarely talked,
of peace he had been robbed.
He left the school and shoveled dirt,
from the streets, his only job.
And not long after all of this,
the older fold did sadly tell,
was the first time he made the climb,
and danced up on that hill.

Sharon's curiosity was peaked
by the news of Harry's pain.
She figured the hill had something to do
with keeping poor Harry sane.
But why he would dance up there alone,
she was truly at a loss,
until she hired a medium,
a psychic at discount cost.

That night she went out to the hill,
the medium at her side.
The psychic gasped in utter shock,
wide went the woman's eyes.
She said, "Thank you for calling,
and sharing your quest with me.
grab my hands and for a spell
you will see what I can see."

Sharon grabbed her hand, and nearly shrieked
at what on the hill unfurled:
Crazy Harry dancing in the arm arms
of a blond-haired, shimmering girl.
Sharon could make no sense of it
make no sense of what she saw,
her mind rebelled a the mere sight,
it broke every natural law.

But Harry paused, and looked their way,
so did the ghost Helen too.
They smiled once and he explained
the truth that they both knew:
Helen had said on her death-bed
she would see him soon again,
cause without Harry by her side
she refused to enter Heaven.

Sharon nodded, the medium too,
and they left the lovers alone.
Sharon returned to her own house
and told it all to her husband, Owen.
Whether he believed she couldn't say,
at least he never laughed,
she told none other, because she knew
they'd point and call her ‘daft.'

Years they passed and the ages claimed
Crazy Harry for the grave.
He died dancing atop his hill
in the early part of May.
He had no money for a tomb,
but Sharon paid for his stone,
and smiled because Harry and Helen
had finally made it home.

The town still sees him as a loon,
but Sharon never will.
And once a week she brings Owen up
to dance upon that hill.
And if you find her on that crest
be sure to take the chance,
to ask her if she'll tell the tale
of why Crazy Harry danced.