Poem: At David's Funeral

"I know you" he said

taking my hand as we milled about

a group of mourners

After the blessings and grief had been shared

I peered back at him

saying that I thought  I knew him too

I didn't reply with my usual, flippant

"I come from a large Irish Family"

or

"Oh I have one of those faces."

I simply held this stranger's hand

a small comfort in shared grief

We smiled sadly and agreed that we could not place the place

but it was nice to see each other again

as he walked away

I supposed that

we knew each other

from a past

neither of us could quite remember