The cortege was a motley
group
They came from all about
To stand beside and hold
the line
In full accord without a
doubt
The cortege felt the need
to be
And be among those close
together
Joined in thoughtful
recollection
Smiling times and talking
blether
The cortege stood and
raised a glass
Side by side in
contemplation
To the strains of once
shared melodies
One last salute in
veneration
The cortege all and sundry
knew
That every chapter has a
name
A range of strange
encounters
Each one a memory all the
same
©
C K Letts
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