My Santiago

Has decided to have a little fun

on his passage to the other side.

Life’s like that,

Death’s like that.

Nothing is lost,

Nor - anybody.

He lives on,

In his girls,

Their traits,

One the fixer,

- In more ways than one – The next opined, conspiracy theorist,

And the last, ever the optimist,

(All creative)

His grandchildren,

And in odd moments.

In the flash of a smile,

In the opinion passed;

Perhaps at 6pm on a weekday,

While watching the news – in the happy hour –

Where we might listen and say,

“Yes Donald, Yes we know Donald”.

He won’t be forgotten,

Endings after all,

Are only new beginnings.