Still and stretched out,
in a fine line of light
that traces memories
in their rippling, hazy flight
through
so much that is dark,
dismal or vague
…and yet so much more 
that is clear and bright.

I see your youthful image
so vividly in the film
that plays itself behind my eyes
raking memories from deep
within my pain-numbed mind.

Time moved forward
but left its patterned
marks behind,
like smudged fingerprints
on a pane glass window
So that when I search for you
I can only see you as a child
with those clear blue eyes
and lop-sided smile 
Your round freckly face,
brimming with youthful mischief
That mop of sun-bleached hair
brushed with twigs and leaves,
sometimes combed
but most times left perfectly wild

This vision I play out
is in such vivid contrast
to the bruised grey of
your lifeless face
upon the cold steel morgue table
and the pale grey of your ashes poured
into a cleft at Dassies’ Rock,
- our childhood haunt
A place where you can rest
my beloved brother.
Sleep... you're not in hell anymore...

Copyright Chantal Niven 2008