I am writing this in Kos
With you it would have been…
For me now it is time with Andrew
And a little time with me
I don’t know what you’re feeling
I’m scared now to ask
I’m frightened to see a closure
More frightened still to ask
Far away warm feelings are easy
Blanking out bad times
Is not too too difficult a task
It’s not dealing with reality
It’s living in the past
But I do want to say
Some things for clarity
Things past you that I’d like to pass
My poetry and my reading
Gratitude to you for that and more
The list of introductions is endless
You’ve learnt me all and evermore
The paintings and the painting
The galleries and the exhibitions
You bought me pastels, paints and board
You showed me shade and depth without derision
You may think I already knew sculpture
True I had visited Leeds, to see serene old Mr Moore
But you opened up the vista
Showing you, opened up, opened up my view
Then there’s education
I guess that’s where we met
You sometimes unkindly scoffed at my methods
By example you led, standards to aspire to you set
On this last night, I’m writing this in Kos
The flights delayed, we’re losing waste less days
Now I know, or think I do, what it was like for you
In your horror of Fuerteventura
I didn’t know then what you were feeling
I had forgotten, become so rotten
I had forgotten
Forgotten how to ask
