There were blue birds in the sky that day.

There were blue birds in the sky that day,

ceaseless in their serenade;

we watched the ships in English Bay,

the years were younger on your face.

There were white birds in the sky that day,

on salted winds our vessel swayed.

“There’s nothing like it,” I heard you say,

of the sacred place on which we sailed.

There were red birds in the sky that day,

their scarlet wings like autumn’s reign.

Your heart belonged to a lonesome place;

you spoke of Alaska, vast and pale.

There were grey birds in the sky that day,

beneath my feet the world gave way;

walks on the beach turned to hospital stays

as time took you from strong to frail.

There were black birds in the sky that day,

I held your sweater, soft and frayed;

I’d always hoped that time would wait,

I held you once and will again someday.

~ For my wonderful dad ~