Thunderbirds are go,
or so you used to say
(unlike the trains you loved –
are those llamas on the track?!)

Ham sandwiches and mustard,
you waved me on my way,
with home made flags and cheering,
on my saddle-bound holiday.

(Remember the size of the restaurant
plates we ate from? So large
I thought we’d never make it
to the end. You did.)

Sniggering in meetings.
Inappropriate jokes
at serious moments. Laughter
invaded toil and lightened.

As a mentor in Salone,
generous in wisdom.
Gaps between meetings grow
but birthday cards still come.

Until this year. They stopped,
I fear, no more. We used
to pick up where we left off.
One day, I pray, we will.

We said goodbye to a dear friend yesterday. It isn’t a great poem and won’t make to much sense to others, but it’s been good to remember shared moments in the past.
(16.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026