Flt. Lt ~ Scottow Cemetary

From a photograph run of colour,

Some twenty seven years of rains;
Laid at the stone of his grave,

His eyes spoke to me.

I remembered 1988 and was ten,
Older now than he ever reached;
His death at twenty six,

"All my grief will be endless
Until we meet again" ~ Mum.

His passing close,
An anniversary in September,
Approaching on winter's air,
Flying as new leaves that spiral.

I laid a broke stone,
To join the rubble;

Because I do not understand grief.

1st Sep 2013