A for Blog

Tragic, really.
It worked, and then
it didn’t.

(For Diana Neutze, as MS advances)

You know how
you will die.
(Let others worry
when and why.)

Your tall ship
drifts north
sans sails
sans oars.

You forgive life.
You forgive death.
You are almost
jolly.

You do your work
of the soul.
You honour both
cats and sparrows

with all your lonely
lively
problem-solving
whole.

(for Diana Neutze)

You need Bach
to thread beads
on the filaments
of your sleep.

You need Mozart
to gleam
in blowaway bubbles
beyond the glass.

You need Haydn
to wrap you
in a firm and fatherly
embrace.