He was brave
especially for a rich man
he shook the world apart
he’d sang that song
for the first time
about Stephen B.
The lament rang out sonorous
audience holding their breath
lurid picture painted for them
the beat of our hearts matching
the last rhythmic moments
of a tortured life
in September 77.
And as he died
we exhaled.
The troubadour
refrained again
from anything but the truth.
And our angel Gabriel bowed.
Overwhelmed I imagine, now,
a profound silence
and all of us
standing in an ovation.
It was our collected pain.
Our exaltation.


About tgrignon

I came I saw I rented the DVD
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