My Santiago

Moving on

A generation of my loved ones, Is ever so quietly, imperceptibly, Drifting off the radar screen of my existence!

They were there, Corporeal, And real as laugh creases on a face, As crinkled velvet skin, dimpled forearms. And then, They are not!

As simple as breath leaving the heaving air, Without fuss, They take their leave.

They once occupied a permanent niche, In my repertoire- Of people to see, And places to go. And they were simply there!

Occupying sentient spots In suburbs, in houses; Doing the same reassuring things each Christmas,

Each birthday, Each Saturday, Each Football crazy winter, Each visit east, Each sojourn south.

Saying the same comfortable words; Quietly drinking home brew in the corner. Giving life A sense of permanence - Comfort in stability; In things that seemed resistant -to time’s insidious passing. Once two years ago, I had a father-in-law -and two uncles, a lovely generous aunt and My father.

But they have since ‘moved on’: And whilst the sadness was great At each moment of departure;

Nevertheless, Despite grief, Despite words,