Saying goodbye

44 years old and he seemed to me a mere boy at times. Arms and legs wrapped around me, his face tucked in close to mine. A happy little boy. How can that child stay so close to the surface of the man? Guide him seamlessly a the most unexpected moments. Then disappear, unnoticed. And I his constant witness, silent, amazed, but mostly curious. I see a lot of little boys. Peter never dies, without warning he'll step up to the helm, gallantly guide the ship, and suddenly retreat without a word, without a sign. He couldn't know that was the last time. I didn't. Never such a clean break, never so gentle, so affectionate and with barely a word. For one moment in my life a simple action had achieved artform! Accidental, graceful beauty. This is my tribute to him, my last farewell. I just wanted to say goodbye.