George

11:05am

One full revolution around the sun.
4 seasons.

It's cold and damp again and my bones have begun to ache in the cold mornings again.

From time to time the sky opens wide and soaks us with cold rain again,
The sea becomes slate grey and except for the hardy the beach is deserted again.

From time to time the sky is bright Wedgwood blue and it is cold and crisp again.

The earth smells rich and damp and sweetly decayed again and the leaves are turning brown and falling from the trees again.

And the earth turns and turns again and again without you.

And another shred is torn from my heart again.

Oh I miss you fiercely little boy. I miss all that you might have been.

I miss the friends you might have made.
I miss the things you would have investigated.
I miss the grand adventures we might have had.
I miss the future that now seems hazy and indistinct.

But mostly, mostly, I just miss my little George.

Beloved.