Lost Letter

Thank you for coming to the funeral, the burial.

You didn't have to, you know. You really didn't have to.

It was a big morning surprise when you called,

Saying you were on your way, and that you'd drive.

Quiet, mostly, on the way to the chapel, and between

The service and the burial out in the yard,

But we sparked up when it was all done and the reception

We got gone to; you were patient, left on your own,

As I did the room and talked to anyone and everyone,

While you spent most of it (as you said) talking to Ruthie

(who, by the way, later told me I had such 'interesting friends').

Then, with an excess of graciousness, you repeated what

Everyone else had been saying: 'Nice day for a drive.'

And the early Summer fields, yes, were glorious to see,

In colours we'd forgotten during the down side of the sky

Without we knowing we'd missed them at all, like old friends,

The smell of cinnamon, or ice cream you eat on a drive.

Ice cream, ice cream! You missed the Dairy Queen parking lot

And had to turn around.

So, thank you

Thank you