The Problem Of Time And Memory Lost

I would like to have remembered
The quality of light
Across the surface of the river water,
The time of day,
The subject of our chat.
Although I know for sure the time of year –
September -
And the small company of boy cousin
Ahead of me in the fat canoe,
My Father keeping pace with us along the bank
High grown with a tangle of cow parsley,
Seed grass, doc leaf, perhaps.

I would like to have recalled
The sound of the paddle
Passing into the dark Aran
The type of insects that may have crossed our path,
The possible touch of the sun.
Although I remember the sudden slide
Of the birthday watch from my hand
And the quick-slow moment
That encompassed ‘mine’ and ‘gone’,
And of not being afraid that I had done wrong
Just sombre, sorry at the unexpected loss.