i've decided to write you a letter

even though you don't know me now.

dementia has stolen your memory



here you are in london

you and your thousand-watt smile




behind you, some london mods




the little box camera

held in your elegant, gloved hands







on the back it says St. Paul's

in your inimitable handwriting

a gift long gone as well




the bell tower clock reads

twenty to four






you told me

the bells are in the key of B flat

and all these years later

i still have your singing voice.

tomorrow is Three Kings Day

and i shall take my little play on the road

singing, in the voice you gave me