O James,
I hardly knew you,
and yet,
I knew you all too well.
Eyes catching each other.
A wave across the ward.
A smile across the bed.
Acknowledgement of a rough night.
Relief at seeing the day.
You,
with your Habs blue ball cap,
the strange but happy sounds
left over from a stroke twenty years ago,
singing with the nurses in made up syllables.
Always cheerful,
always loving food.
You were like Champlain,
creating an order of good cheer,
a bright ball of sun,
on a storm scarred landescape.
Thank you.
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Nice tribute.