It was a Tuesday morning
As I was readying for school when
My Mother said “They’ve killed John Lennon”
And I shook my head a little and thought “Who?”
It was the way she’d said they
That intrigued me a little,
And set a fourteen year old misfit on his way.
I was familiar with McCartney,
And had heard of Ringo, even George
Rang a bell, but Lennon had evaded me for some
Reason, but once the media had seeded his image in
Me I discovered the music and
Used it to assist me safe
Through the awkward teenage phase that followed.
I’d often wondered who would
Generate the most press upon their
Death and it turned out to be him, and since
That fateful day I’ve learnt more from this man than
Any other save my father, and
Even learnt the art of being a
Pa from Lennon’s house husband lustrum.
And nearly thirty years later
I’m still able to imagine the world
With him in it, perched as he was to return,
No doubt trailing the Earth with him as he sweeps
Up its issues and bruises our egos
With them, and reminds us,
Every once in a while, that all we need is love.