The Piper Cub climbed higher
Up, Up it went a bird flyer
Ura May was a passenger
The little engine did purr,
Up to the tallest place,
Engine cut and then the race.
Twirling, spinning ‘round and ‘round
In a tailspin toward the ground.
No one told the pilot mild,
She was with child.
So ended the life of Jacklyn
Born too soon and then
Breathed a few breaths to live
Whose to blame, whose to forgive?
The babe rests in a grave without a stone,
Out on the prairie all alone.
