A good friend, recently departed,
Occasionally returns as a ghost
To places he ended and started...
A friendly spirit only I can see;
And I find what I miss the most
Is that he cannot talk to me...
But through imagined sound
I still sense his message clearly,
Regardless of what's around,
A comfort, yet I miss him dearly,
My good friend, a tumbleweed spirit,
Rolling through space, he
Sometimes visits, here or when,
And his fleeting presence,
Comforts me now, as it did then...
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| Photograph of & by Geoffrey M. Hamilton |
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