A Poem For Cohen
There’s a man that I knew,
And he did what I do;
But his talent was greater than mine.
He could summon his prose,
Or a fable compose –
Always conjure the masterful rhyme.
He told stories that taught,
Conveyed messages caught
From the air us mere mortals ducked under.
Not a feeling as such,
But a soothsayers touch;
Like the universe was his to plunder.
Rivers filled my eyes
When I heard that he’d died;
For a beauty has left us forever.
But his words they remain –
We can tune in again –
In the midst of our questioning fervour.
(c) Montaffera 16.11.2016
I was humming “Chelsea Hotel” to myself as I wrote this, so it kind of fits in with the music.
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