Get well Jim, this poetry World of ours is
without a cheery smile when you’re not in.
I heard of this event with a sense of something
missing – a loose end to a thread which just
seemed too anomalous somehow – and had
to follow through; I found it where a voice in
playful mood described a pain in clever ways –
the letters to the words set left of centre. I am
amazed that even when the subject was as grave
as your wellbeing you still found time to play the
poet dilettante. But then you even chose your
name with subtle grace, a changeling state –
a transformation. I liked the change, even though
I never knew from what you’d changed; of course
glimpses remain in your poetry, easily seen, of a
sensitive man given to powerful reflection – so I
beseech you – be a Phoenix and rise again, it is
far too soon to scatter your ashes...
© 26 March 2007, I.D. Carswell
For the ubiquitous mm, aka Jim Crawford.
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