"It's funny how one insect
can damage so much grain ...
Can't you come out to play
in your empty garden,
John?"
Where were you the night John Lennon died? I was with a college friend in Jackson, Mississippi. We were shocked. Drove to Smith Park in Belhaven in his red Beetle convertible. People were there. Sitting in circles with candles. It was a surreal scene. We sat there on the ground with the others in silence. I was impressed people knew and cared. I remember a dull feeling of loss. I remember wondering why he was killed and felt angry anyone had the nerve to do it. Another one bites the dust. Yes, I know each person is unique in her own way. But this was someone special. Famous. Beatle. Imagine.
"And we are so amazed.
We're crippled and we're dazed.
A gardener like that one
no one can replace."
