It is on days like these when I am wont to wallow in the yesterdays,
the golden age.
As I glance from side to side I witness the tears willingly cried
and the ones some try to hide.
We celebrate a life that lived and lived well.
Our hearts ache as we say our farewell.
I cast my mind back
to the not so distant past.
I see your glasses,
the glint in your eyes,
and then I envision you laughing.
It rolls up from your belly to your throat
and a wide smile dances on your lips . . .
I find it difficult to go on with this;
to find the right words
and so I shall simply end with:
you will be missed.