Let me sit at your table
where the past comes to life
in that southern smile
that sails away
in eyes of childhood blue

tell me again of the man you loved
the naval ring you wear,
his burial at sea

do his glasses help with the menu
or are you reading the waves?

Her presence was a window on the past and light to what may come; a tearful goodbye to a departed island and a gaze turned on the horizon; a reminder that we sail upon deep waters.

Always something to learn from Agnes.