(Russell J Turner)
Asterophora lycoperdoides
...in memoriam AM...
A credit card, a razorblade, a spoon,
a crowed toilet cutting out the white.
A flame, a mirror holding back the night,
a crumpled square, a final afternoon.
As late spring sunlight faded through the room
we laughed at memories of fields and fights ‒
then wept for fate, still making plans despite
the certainty that you would leave us soon.
But once we prowled like wolves and shone like stars
and marvelled at the ways the world could teach.
Beyond the bright cacophony of bars
we went our ways ‒ yet still not out of reach.
Another final moment is all ours
with ashes blown across a Norfolk beach.
RJT
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