I close my eyes and try to coach you
Out of eternity’s shadow.
There is a framed photo of you
On my wall but it doesn’t do you justice,
Cause in the gravity of the occasion
You have combed your unruly hair
And your smile is modest,
Not the wide grin
That I remember.

Yes, I can see you now coming
Out of the shadow sitting by the sunny wall
Where the paint is flaking every spring,
Rolling your own cigarettes
Drinking a glass of home-made wine
And laughing at our crazy world.
Formality wasn’t your Maiden Name.