It is two weeks ago now. I find myself still thinking often of Max. His
wife Marilyn posts on Facebook about Memorial Walks, actions taken by
neighbours to prevail upon local councils to adjust speed in the area,
meetings at his favourite tree in the park near their apartment, Max's
local cafe providing food and many offerings by neighbours to walk the
still-distraught dogs. Sing out if you want links to newspaper articles
dealing with Max's death.
I am indebted to an early respondent on Facebook (whose name escapes me)
for the term 'quiet adventurer'; the rest below is mine.
*Maxless*
Gone the wry grin, the tall man prop,
the whiskered consideration,
quiet adventurer Max is no more.
Generous Max, uncomplicated
man of rigour, depth, compassion.
Tercet-constructing Max,
seer of small things, walker
of labradors, labradoodles,
through parks and city streets.
Incorporator of waking moments,
personal history episodes,
oddments, into measured lopes
of goodwill or gentle inquiry,
irony dancing, decent
humanity glowing.
bw
29.9.16
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