My Santiago

Further Conversations

Although I grieved when you died, I never really knew you. You, with your jaunty, sideways smile and bonhomie, Masking the inward man, Shy! Although I grieved when you left, I never really laughed with you. You, with your selective affections - Although I grieved when you dropped stage by shuddering stage to the depths of your demon – dementia, I never really grasped the man you became. You, with your cruel barbs, Those callous nouns of the lost. had left already.

And threatening love (remnant of the abrupt loss of your first born?) -

How I regret that!

And yet, I grieved when you lay exhausted and confused, as your soul packed it bags, imminent departure from the body, (any day now, - Not eating, not drinking, Lips unmoving, Eyes straight ahead – vacant) - As I needed you.

You, with your wholesome blokey strength, And us, standing shoulder to shoulder, Back to the heater’s warmth, Jousting for position. Us, expressing our love the only way we had learned to…

And, of course I grieved when it was over! Last chance gone!

Never really hearing your stories. You, the audacious young man In three war zones, The friend to whom all turned, And, oh, about my sister?

And