He gave them the thumbs up

as he left their world behind.

He trusted them to follow

where he led in hope.


His joie de vie was

a bright clown’s costume

in a world full

of dark insanity;


His little pipe in clay,

shaped like a nesting bird,

kept warm both

hands and hearts;


His touching sympathy

with the world’s pain

he always carried in a little

leather purse around his neck.



© Nyuka Anaďs Laurent    30.01.2010