January 11, 2016 § 4 Comments
Whom are we going to mourn my love this dawn?
I read about children starving or falling off a boat,
about a girl who’s lost her child, a child herself.
And of course there are earthquakes and wars,
torture and prosecutions, rapes and murders,
bombs, drones, beheadings and shootings.
And, soon enough, we are all going to lose
a parent or a spouse, or, even the worst,
our best friend, a daughter or a son.
So why do we write a poem or paint a wall?
And why, why my love, do we mourn a song?
Is it because this is the only chance we have
to mourn after ourselves?
David Bowie (8 January 1947 – 10 January 2016)