there are no ruins

In memory of my Dad , Ivan Hare father and friend always filled with a diverse wisdom and a knowing way , transformed lives with kindness and openess, a great man. I have great memories my mum ,sisters and i survive yet in that peculiar way he does as well at our side as he always will be.

These are my feelings i am sure shared with my family

night has a cheap aluminum taste
that wakes me from the shallows
passing the border post,
into shrugged wakefulness,
i am not afraid of dentists drill
yet i am of this day
holding on by tips of my fingers
dropping into a place still dark,
i will find my way
walking not flying,
tied by blood to a long memory,
rain upon the iron tracks
a platform for the coming back
but i know of no return journeys
when passage is paid,
despite this a silent hand can be held
and forehead kissed,
locomotive rush across interior landscapes
carriage rattle and sway
memories may mumble
but they are heard and felt,
native tongue
and lyrical words
he may be gone
but not silenced
remember tea and hot buttered toast
smell, feel, dream
aluminum leaves my mouth
with each cup of coffee,
he is with me now
and i do not have to worry

Love you Dad miss you this year on , thinking of my Mum and sisters Sandra and Lana