21 wand salute

I don't care
what anyone says, you
were magical.

whether unearthing
your deepest pain
to share poems

or bathing the whole community
in the glory of
a turn of your brilliant cloak

giving of yourself
endlessly
even at times when you could've
let someone else take the wheel,

and always making the contributions
of those after you
feel like we were giving the greatest gift,
when compared to your herculean lifting, our efforts
were drops of dew on a blade
of goose poop fertilzed grass.

and we were given the gift,
to follow in your wand brandishing footsteps

what poems will flow out of me now
that i can't share any more of them
with you?

what magic can be,
in brigadoon or otherwise,
in a world without you?