Through a fog of incense I recall
We said goodbye
We were soft children then
Wondering why do some grow-ups cry.
We didn’t know you very well at all
Was that because you were called Black Sheep?
You came to visit once
Not very long ago
They brought you to the parlour.
Only adults were brought into the parlour
We had lots of questions for you
But you just shook our hands
As you were leaving, saying
We’ll meet again sometime.
Mam and Dad chorused
Over our dead bodies
We were to young to know
What that really meant
It frightened us.
We thought they were going to die
But it was your turn before them.
We know you can’t hear our whisper
But we might meet again sometime?
Then you can tell us the whole story?
We just heard someone behind us whisper
Can’t wait to see the back of him.
Adults can be very cruel.
Goodbye Uncle Dan.
(c) Chris Black 2017.