So farewell then, John. Without a doubt the finest and most beautiful man I’ll ever know.
[Dad slipped his mooring and drifted out to sea with the year’s biggest full moon to guide him. Some tides you just can’t fight.]
Strangely that’s something I still miss:
your slow, measured stride. Even now
I’d try to copy it in case of crisis –
that thoughtful lope towards fire or flood.
Of course you were panicking like the rest of us
but someone has to take the adult role.
I practise and practise – the steady hand, the cool
head, the firm, what’s-the-problem-here stroll
to the edge of the abyss.
– Connie Bensley, from The Spectator, 25 September 2010