But a dream.
We remember you. In the warmth of daffodils and in the depths of Africa’s red earth.
Your work has now gotten up from its lazy slumber, no longer expecting you to drive it, but
willing now to drive itself, to serve its purpose.
The conversation, the one you started, continues.
You are missed, remembered and mourned.
Until the next round my friend
willing now to drive itself, to serve its purpose.
The conversation, the one you started, continues.
You are missed, remembered and mourned.
Until the next round my friend