Tribute
there was no big
send-off
for you, no
Wembley Stadium
extravaganza
no fanfares or firewords
no in memoriam
speeches from
famous admirers s>.;j;
just a quiet
quality meal
a local hotel
chosen guests
close to you
we sipped our
wine and
over lunch
laughed, even,
I saw you glint in the
corner of my mother's eye
and though you
were not there
some of us carried
a piece of you
painful
stuck in our
stomachs like a
fragment of flint
indigestible
dangerous, even,
and now so
much air and
years lie
between us
and your
name is
scripted
aesthete in
a calligraphy
book
open at the date
you left
I still carry
my flint fragment
black and
hard but
worn smooth
by bile
embedded
a pebble
I carry you
in my hear
like a gallstone
it has worked its
way inward
over the years
how can 1 cut
it out without
cutting myself
I carry my lodestone:
deep where no-one
can see it
nothing can excise
even if I wanted it
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