Momento

When we were young,

You’d sit us down

And tell us wonders

Of love and loss,

Surviving two wars;

Meeting Gran by chance

In the days when wireless reigned,

And sail still ruled

The waves you’d swum

Since childhood.

You spoke an age

In photographs

Distilled from memory.

I glimpsed you last

As I boarded the ferry home

(before they closed it down):

An arm,

Enigmatically raised

In a brief salute.

Ignoring the final click

Of the shutter.