36 - I drove to where my father's ashes lie

I drove to where my father’s ashes lie,
In Lichfield (which may mean Field of the Dead),
And also patted little nephew’s head:
One more blond in the Baxter family.
I saw the sights of childhood with fresh eyes -
Three spires, the lakes, the market square and all -
And we three siblings chatted, had a ball.
It seems our father’s death strengthened our ties.
So we are halfway from cradle to grave.
I say this is a fine old place to be,
With half a life enshrined in memory,
And half a life left, all experience saved
And banked. We are rich in humanity,
And we shall plant our Dad’s memorial tree.
Tue 10 Oct 2006