For Grandfather Redfern, Doctor
1991-06-02
Your house was always full of pills and always immaculate elan.
Grandmother was a manic nurse and you had a yard full of flowers, a hothouse full of orchids but your voice was always soft and gentle, though your hands sustained and heart restorer.
Now I see you fade mysterious before my eyes, like the smoke from your charcoal-patio barbecue, and you outline your body, and let you both happy & sad.