Making Memories Today, we laid you to rest. No. That’s not true. Today, some unseen strangers burned a young woman’s body. We knew you: I, too little and too late. Frozen images flash on a large screen a precious baby – click a young girl – click And, at last, a woman, now in moving pictures: speaking, laughing, dancing, all over a sad, sad song. but we have no picture of your broken mind. Then - lost. But I have lost a woman before, and I shall lose another. So today, in the warm, waning evening sun, I walk with my wife, dodging bicycles, boats to rent, a cottage to buy, lost amongst the waterways. Lone heron on the weir Duckling flotilla by the old mill – click Sculptures along the shady path – click, click, click. Hand-in-hand we walk in the dying light. Making memories.