a remembrance  of melvin goldfield

                                       at the open grave
                                            mingled with the rabbi's prayer
                                                      a lone train whistle

             dear mel,

    Little did i know it was to be our last dance.....  that balmy june
evening we celebrated life and growing older together.  We drank champagne
and toasted,  we got toasted, we listened to the bamboo grow in your back
yard.  I took your picture, you mugged in my hat for the camera.  We
previewed the results and didn't  like them    
-  now i guess they'll have to do.  "Let's eat!"... go to the bar ,  drink
some,  eat some,  talk somemore.  "OK,  now what?  "Let's go see nate"  you
say.  So,  off we go to Bob and Barbara's.  Nice crowd... we find two stools
in the back by the band.    The band is in a groove and so are we. The
chanteuse sits with us, we buy her a drink, her old man buys us a drink, and
we hang until closing.   Thank you, friend mel,  for being there for me,  for
the lemonade,  the iced tea, the pretzels,  the projects to work on together,
 the stone soup we made when there was nothing.

   We laid your body in the ground tuesday.  We're here today to remember
you and to see that your spirit endures.  May our memories of you raise all
our spirits as we return to our lives prepared to pass on that which you have
bestowed upon us;  reverence for nature,  love of art,  an eye for the
mystical nature of the prozaic,  and a heightened appreciation for the humor
inherent in the human folly.    thank you for unwavering faith in spirit .

                                                            yours truly,  
henry brann

( first read at mel's memorial at the painted bride)