Back then, we used to say
“We’ll look back on this someday”
But I can’t bear to go back there
without you

Regret is not for me
Nor living absentee
Still, if I could, I would go back
and ask about you

I’d ask about you
and how do I get through?

I saw her learn to crawl
to ride straight, and not to fall
and no one stood as tall
I’d be so lucky now

She loved full from the start
Who does these days apart?
And she didn’t spill from Maryhill
to Sauchiehall

So tell me all
How did you get through?

Make it something more than money

Now take this glass away
I can’t see through anyway
All I mean to see beyond
is out of view

When we see face to face
We’ll look back and laugh at grace
and marvel at the commonplace
Comparing notes

So grandiose
How did we get through?

It was something more than money

(January 2018. For Bill Davis, in memory of Anne.)