A Wigwam for a Goose's Bridle

From breaths offered to L’inconnue de la Seine
to dewy spring mornings at Bondi beach,
to harbourside fireworks, to blue-ribboned jam
to Christmas parties out the back of Short Street,
the pattern you stitched where you touched my life’s fabric
was hallmarked by welcome and service, the magic
of generosity and hospitality
invited me into your home and your time.
Friendship was bypassed — it feels more like family,
we stayed at your place in the dix-huitieme. 
And so when I visit you in your last days
I’m unsurprised to come away with more than I gave. 
Thank you for asking — a personal invite
to your funeral. Yes, I’ll be there
to celebrate the differences made by your life
and exchange hugs with others who care.
Your smile and moustache will live in my memory
even when I’ve eaten all of your honey.


in memoriam S.N.