Brian James Dixson 1935 -2009

Poem in memory of Brian, The 18th Tee Like the gap between winter and spring, like a pendulum turning, the pause at the top of your backswing was only the briefest of moments, hardly a pause at all, but this is how I'll choose to remember you, double or quits down the 18th, long shadows across Epsom, the head of your driver pointing down the far, sunlit fairway, your head still, eyes on the ball, everything to play for, everything to live for, and no thought of the rough ahead or the deeper rough off to the left, only the briefest of moments, hardly enough to notice the cooing of a wood pigeon away up in the trees, hardly enough to think of the tall flag on the distant green, out of sight, flickering like a strong, enduring flame in the late-June breeze. --------------------------------------------------- Written and read by Michael Shann (Brian's Son-in-Law) at the Funeral. July 10th 2009 ---------------------------------------------------