Last Time I Saw Anna was written after the passing of my life long friend Enzo. It was sudden, on a Christmas Day a week after his marriage. It was gut punch for everyone, impossible to understand, he seemed so healthy. At his service, his mother Anna, was ‘holding on to the weight’ of loss. During our last visit I held her, pressed her frail hands in mine and the tears fell and we said goodbye. I still miss him.
This week’s poem ‘Enzo’s Leaf’ is from my second book, The Quarterly. It came to me on a camping trip in northern Ontario as I watched a leaf pass in the Spanish River, then slowly disappear beneath the surface - metaphoric of course, but I felt like it was the beginning of Enzo’s journey into his afterlife, a beautiful farewell in a place he belonged.
Fredrick Brooks - Vocal/Acoustic Guitar
Joy Brooks - Vocal Harmony
Jeff Brackett - Dobro/Vocal Harmony
Ray Hickey Jr. - Nylon String Guitar
Alex Paris - Bass
Mark Congram - Drums
Produced by Paul LaChappelle, Fredrick Brooks
Recorded and mastered at Quest Recording
<Click here to listen to The Last Time I Saw Anna>
Last Time I Saw Anna
Last time I saw Anna
We were standing in the rain
Holding on to the memories
Trying to look beyond the pain
And as I turned and walked away
The sun was fading in an evening sky
And like my brother before me
It’s beauty made me cry
The last time I saw Anna
She was holding on to the weight
With flowers in her garden
No sun on her face
And it’s not for me to reason why
I guess it sometimes just works out that way
We follow the river and one day were swept away
The last time I saw Anna
She held on so tight
Asked me for a reason to believe
And if time would set her right
We stood on that frozen ground
Watched the seasons fly by
I pressed her frail hands in mine
And we said goodbye
The last time I saw Anna
© Fredrick Brooks
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<Click here to listen to Enzo’s Leaf>
Enzo’s Leaf
I remember Enzo’s leaf
His curled star slowly dissolving
Embraced by gold and silver minerals of the Spanish River
Like Emilio his father before him
He faded into faceless oblivion
Passing over tidy smooth stones of an ageless riverbed
Oh! To take leave
Embark on a journey of current an season
Resting in rich golden sand beds
Never reaching the chaos of shore
Enzo, my compadre
I see you now beneath fall’s charcoal skies
Watching from the tenebrous deep
As migrating angels spread shadows
Along your constant ceiling
For Enzo Detta Coli
© Fredrick Brooks 2013
