I liked your letters in your pointed script
As if a tiger’s claw in ink was dipped.
Your mind was still and full of careful thought
Your writing was like the barbs where sheeps’ wool caught
Excitement, eagerness and will
Joy, imagination well fulfilled.
I turn the letter backwards hold to light
I see the patterns in the inky sight.
Even with a biro or gel pen
Yout writing was quite clearly that of Man
I see your desk the drawers your diaries kept
I cannot see your face, where feelings leapt
Concentrating energy like gold
The wrinkles in the brain could then unfold.
I wish I could have kept your brain and heart
But when you go, the whole of you departs.
And after all the mind is not just brain
The heart must play its part must not disdain.
