Poem for a Mad Monk: A Sunday Memorial for Allen Ginsberg

Like all good monks
you entered the continuum,
knew how the light links
the far reaches of time

You who sang
like a red chested robin
of the eternal return

You are passing over
passing in and out of memory

I hear the flutter of wings
A last song of spring
before the melting gaze of summer

Then a fleeting glimpse
of one golden leaf
floating between heaven and earth

Vancouver, 2004-2005