A blur of flowers lay by their side,
memorable efforts from a grieving relative.
Sombre and silent and still they sat -
the scene picked me up
and took me through time.
Amongst a heavy fog of grey, the memory stood there;
I slid my hand into the cloud and tore through it.
They were there, and I was too.
A weathered old envelope was in their hands,
it bulged one side, flat on the other.
In my mind I went back to the day, and held the envelope up,
to let the contents fall into my soft, caring palm.
I bowed my head in thought, and knew I would do it.
But before I could, the saintly wind that blew me through time,
and sucked me back again.
I took my place back in the present,
slipping into my mourning clothing; my favourite suit,
Pinstriped, royal blue shirt, and a lighter shaded tie.
For they were me, and I was them,
and I never fulfilled that promise.
Tissue in hand, hand on nose,
another mourner came to my side, and noticed the shine
of an ageing artefact that lay in my hand.
