Transition
 

Shall it begin with this?
I prefer to remember you
with images
visions of you that nobody
seems to remember
dancing
with the delicacy of failure
a captain in disguise
you were more
than what we knew
more than the gaunt figure
I picked up, light as a sigh from a lover
in my arms
talking of a war we never saw
into the dream catcher
by your bedroom window
nobody knew who I was after that
left with the name
of men more mysterious than I
-into this precedent
I am
and continue to be.

           Smoke Signals, Current

Burning your memory
on the banks of a foreign river
by proxy and sentiment
smoke chasing your spirit
sending you signals
like schoolboys, chiseling the date
into posterity
moving from Richmond Hill to Holland Landing
you never saw the river
or much beyond the grist mill
unlike our first Christmas
black spot running on the white snow
of our new house
burning memories
into the subconscious
of us and those that followed
you beckon me with that scent
a code that we forged
without speaking
like now
as I carve your name
into the antique table.