I try watching my thoughts;
There are those that say it helps –
But memories,
Like eager, bright eyed squirrels
That leap, in happy dreams
(Where time has no relevance),
From who-knows-where
Into sharp focus, before
Gracefully acrobatting their way
Into history’s here-again undergrowth:
Familiar because you’ve seen them before, because
You were there, together, when it happened –
Before the echoes began … and they’re friendly.
But this year, as the season’s bronze and orange net
Drops across the early-darkened fields,
The fire may be a little cooler,
There will be a big space:
In the crowd, in conversations, in traditions:
A hole in the skies shaped like the
Modest, gentle, dependable rock
That will be missing –
And missed –
From this day forward.
Wow, what a profound poem this is Andy. I can see a poetry / English Lit class analyzing this for years to come.
A very good friend died while buying fireworks for our annual bonfire U.K Nov 5th tradition). This came out as a tribute. The best I could manage any road up. Thanks for the feedback, it has me quietly smiling here … Never a bad thing.
My brothers name is Stewart (Stuart). I read this and was able to place him righ there….it has been years and years since I’ve seen him…this poem made realized how much he and our times, I miss. Thank you…
Hi Heather – and thanks for the feedback. I am pleased that my poem rang bells for you (an English saying perhaps?). Emotion speaks to emotion I guess.
Don’t want to play the “preacher card” (but will do anyway):
is it too late to get in touch with him/
(maybe send him the poem?)
We cross social media paths from time to time…just a shame when we eventually lose the touch we once had due to distance, family and life
This is so tender. I’m sorry for your loss.
Thank you: it helps.