for Thomas and Ryan
When we are cosmic dust
blowing through the universe
and memories of us fade
like colours in a Polaroid
you can pick up your guitar and know
your parents gave you a gift
no one could take away
by Andrew M. Bell
For more information about the poet, Andrew M. Bell, see:
POET'S NOTE: The poet would like to acknowledge The Press, Christchurch, in whose pages this poem first appeared.
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