A
cohort from the “Soup.”
I’d
wondered where he’d gone to,
Maybe
time off to regroup.
Though
we’d had some things in common,
We’d
not moved to being friends,
Yet
his writing still provided
Some
poetic dividends.
Still,
on learning his “hiatus”
Will
be permanent, I feel
Much
more sad than I’d expect
For
death, right now, seems so surreal.
He
bequeaths to us impressions
In
the words he chose to write
As
I guess I will when going “gentle
Into
that good night.”
written
in memory of Matthew Anish
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