"Ah! re Dimitri! you skipped away early.
We bought you a ticket for the trip back home
but you preferred to make other arrangements.
You fixed instead for a much longer journey
and left for us to deal with all the things
you had no longer any use for. A mangled body
to be planted near other family in the local dirt
and a few clothes and personal effects to be disposed of.
You might be glad to know I got to keep
a few of those personal effects your ten-speed bike for one
infrequently used as it turned out and for the most part
gathering dust and cobwebs in my garage a series
of garages for it took me some time to decide
to part with it and use the space for other stuff.
Who would have thought a racer bike
would age so fast just by sitting idle
or that this variety the Cadillac of bikes at the time
would be so soon deposed by the mountain kind.
I kept your few records your vinyl LP's
which I play now and then always remembering
the provenance and how it had been you and your 45's
that had turned me on way back when to the fab-four
and later on to others unknowns to me who were
or were soon to be pop-culture icons (one feels
so embarrassed now to be naming the names).
And the most treasured heritance, your old Dictionary
patched up a few times and held together with duct-tape
and now even the tape frayed and in tatters the whole thing
finally falling apart and I am reluctant to let it go
this last living reminder of your short time with us
almost like a family bible where our father
now long gone too once marked the margin
by the tiny picture of the venerable cleric and statesman
a cross with the date of the passing of Makarios.
This heavy book ushering me into the new tongue
the one to which I was once greener than you.
That's all I have for now. Rest in Peace
and keep for us a good spot on the other side."