THE MELODIOUS POEM PAINTER
                            In memory of Tony Vaughan

His liberty was animal
the ground of the flying sky;
a horse, a whinney of delicate Mayan rebuses,
an owl that never would 'oot for Aitch.

The thing about him
was there was nothing about him, only here
and so now his not being doesn't really
seem real

because every magical
spark on the street---poem or
artwork or sound out of guitar, banjo or kalimba---
reminds us Tony Vaughan is mischieving around

with a sensual plaint
of poem or plunk of paint. Let's
just say life's jointure between winks and
the closing of the lids by death's double -kiss.

His smile's for a haiku eternity
'cause he's forever
seventeen.

© --- Jack Hirschman

Tony Vaughan photo by Sean O'Donnell
Photogragh of Tony Vaughan
© Sean O'Donnell


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