Elegy for Brim, a Neighbour
Elegy for Brim
Shall I write this
with my head on the floor?
The door outside mine
is where we first met..
and yet the gap now between us
is the visible and the invisible;
the heard; the felt
and the silent and the dumb;
Yet he didn’t stir
when I put my music on
nor did he wince
when things weren’t done
-Yet now he is gone.
o where is the sense in that? ...
where he is gone
when we’re pressed upon.
poem by James Kennett
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