I wish I could say this as we say goodbye Michael, but in these strange times it's impossible.


Memories for you


There are few memories from our split childhood
hardly shared...
Just some, in black and white,
you're in a cowboy costume in one
stood behind your mother and new little sister
a silver pistol pointed at our backs.
The memory of your Look and Learns
that I stole into your bedroom to read
and how we both got our teddies to wave
to Land of Hope and Glory
at the end of Last Night of the Proms.
I remember I had a new kitten,
and your big white cat Fluffy took fright
running from under the dining table
never to be seen again. I felt so guilty.
And you had a tortoise.
What happened to it?
Most of my few memories from our childhood, Michael.
Then in later years a holiday job,
I worked as your assistant
standing in a cold river holding a pole,
while you took your measurements.
A few swear words when I moved at the wrong time -
but you did teach me how to tow a dinghy
and not jack-knife it when reversing.
Split childhoods apart, Michael,
every time I see a Morris Minor I check,
has it got a split windscreen? If it has I think,
he'd like that one and wish you were there to see it.

And now, there you will be, gripping the steering wheel
following your new road, wherever it takes you.
Have a good journey Mike.

Your sister

Julia x