a
remembrance of melvin goldfield
at
the open grave
mingled
with the rabbi's prayer
a
lone train whistle
dear
mel,
Little did i know it was to be our last dance.....
that balmy june
evening we celebrated life and growing older together. We drank champagne
and toasted, we got toasted, we listened to the bamboo grow in your back
yard. I took your picture, you mugged in my hat for the camera. We
previewed the results and didn't like them
- now i guess they'll have to do. "Let's eat!"... go to
the bar , drink
some, eat some, talk somemore. "OK, now what?
"Let's go see nate" you
say. So, off we go to Bob and Barbara's. Nice crowd... we find
two stools
in the back by the band. The band is in a groove and so are
we. The
chanteuse sits with us, we buy her a drink, her old man buys us a drink, and
we hang until closing. Thank you, friend mel, for being there
for me, for
the lemonade, the iced tea, the pretzels, the projects to work on
together,
the stone soup we made when there was nothing.
We laid your body in the ground tuesday. We're here
today to remember
you and to see that your spirit endures. May our memories of you raise all
our spirits as we return to our lives prepared to pass on that which you have
bestowed upon us; reverence for nature, love of art, an eye
for the
mystical nature of the prozaic, and a heightened appreciation for the
humor
inherent in the human folly. thank you for unwavering faith in
spirit .
yours
truly,
henry brann
( first read at mel's memorial at the painted bride)