02-12-2018, 10:40 PM
At the table sat my father and his father, too.
There were others seated round, faces that I barely knew;
some hagard, weak as ancient Yews that sprawling in old graveyards grew,
their trembling limbs held up by props
to lift and hold them from the ground.
This was my memory.
At the table sat my friends, some of whom I'd lost to time.
How we talked and how we laughed, we told old tales, we spilt the wine;
then looked to see our father’s eyes, for all their fathers sat with mine,
but only saw the loving smiles
upon the faces of the proud.
We were their memories.
At the table, husbands, wives; mothers, children by their side.
Those with god prayed for the quick, none spouted cant for those who died.
We all depart so leaving spaces
once filled by loved, familiar faces.
Time moves us on; our destiny
is someone else’s memory.
Original
Around the table sat my father and his father, too.
There were others gathered there, strangers that I felt I knew;
hagard as the ancient Yews that sprawling in the graveyards grew,
their feeble limbs held up by props
to lift and keep them from the ground.
This was my memory.
Around the table sat my friends, some of whom I'd lost to time.
They talked to me and laughed with me, we told our tales, we spilt our wine;
we looked to see our father’s eyes, for all their fathers sat with mine,
but only saw the loving smiles
upon the faces of the proud.
We were their memories.
Around the table, husbands, wives; mothers, children by their side.
We were their fathers, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters…all who died.
We all depart so leaving spaces
filled once by loved, familiar faces.
Time moves us on; our destiny
is someone else’s memory.
Tectak
2018
(Alternative title… Funerals more than Christenings these days)
There were others seated round, faces that I barely knew;
some hagard, weak as ancient Yews that sprawling in old graveyards grew,
their trembling limbs held up by props
to lift and hold them from the ground.
This was my memory.
At the table sat my friends, some of whom I'd lost to time.
How we talked and how we laughed, we told old tales, we spilt the wine;
then looked to see our father’s eyes, for all their fathers sat with mine,
but only saw the loving smiles
upon the faces of the proud.
We were their memories.
At the table, husbands, wives; mothers, children by their side.
Those with god prayed for the quick, none spouted cant for those who died.
We all depart so leaving spaces
once filled by loved, familiar faces.
Time moves us on; our destiny
is someone else’s memory.
Original
Around the table sat my father and his father, too.
There were others gathered there, strangers that I felt I knew;
hagard as the ancient Yews that sprawling in the graveyards grew,
their feeble limbs held up by props
to lift and keep them from the ground.
This was my memory.
Around the table sat my friends, some of whom I'd lost to time.
They talked to me and laughed with me, we told our tales, we spilt our wine;
we looked to see our father’s eyes, for all their fathers sat with mine,
but only saw the loving smiles
upon the faces of the proud.
We were their memories.
Around the table, husbands, wives; mothers, children by their side.
We were their fathers, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters…all who died.
We all depart so leaving spaces
filled once by loved, familiar faces.
Time moves us on; our destiny
is someone else’s memory.
Tectak
2018
(Alternative title… Funerals more than Christenings these days)