No one has the right/ to script how someone dies.

Jimi and Janis remain fierce and beautiful

It seems a little solipsistic/ but may indeed be evidence of God// given its mystery and caprice.

I feel I am, in fact,/ the dimmest and least wise/ man on earth.

Questions unanswered proliferate/ across the April sky, blue// with wisps of cirrus white.

Even mockingbirds are scarce;

If they were drowning,

for spirits and demons have no life/ but what imagination gives