Sunday, August 28, 2011

Keith Milne

A few words for a beloved family friend, Keith, who recently passed away.


Seventy years could not hide
Eyes and grin like a little boy
Who stole a plum from the neighbour’s tree
And twinkles still with remembered joy.

His gnarled hands, one nail snapped short,
turned an eggcup from huon pine
so fine it seems too good to use.
On tapering leg
it holds my egg
and memories of those hands,
that grin, the van the yellow of soft boiled yolk,
sparkling eyes that loved a joke,
a little boy in old man’s skin,
a loyal friend, one of those men
who loved and served and lived life well.
Finished now, like my eggshell.

What I will miss most
Is how he always turned his head,
Cupped his hand behind his ear,
And leaned near me
As if everything I said,
And you said and she said,
As if everything we all said
Was worth hearing.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Alison
    Bruce andcDavid and I were reading this last night. This is Keith!
    You evoke him most of all for me in that hand cupped behind his ear.

    Joyce told us you had given her a copy and she treasures it.

    I am loving all your blogs. Have only tried password protected or private blogging myself.



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