a visit to a commemorative blue plaque
the plaques ply thy blues
and time well used
abused by death’s long talons
upon the sweet bird of youth
if youth be the writer’s mind
and death the inkwell supped
and dipped and blue/black the bruise
misused by time and time again
the plaque is the grimace of a smile
that has walked with you this many mile
to stand opposite each other’s time
and say hello goodbye
my friend has said that and more
we say he said
surely you remember now
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