In Memoriam, for Bill Mahoney

Where is the soul in rose-gold
In Watch hill, in Bridgewater? 

In you, you are held above

Us all, your daughter mourns,

I loved her

Miss Josephine of Jordan

Swinging with me

In the sunlight,

You calling for us

From the yellow house. 

You cannot die again

Remember that

And that love is the flame

That should burn

Within your sweet life,

Your four poster.

All that you were,

Your millions

And your brilliance

Cannot perish.

Never were you meant to be

A pair of ragged claws;

You do not grow old,

You do not live

With trousers rolled

Or pass along,

Transparent. 

Bill, we remember you

With the dead calm

Of loving someone for now gone.