A HEARTBEAT LOST

For Peter Benson...in memoriam

My heart sank when I heard
of your sudden passing. This was
something too final, too hopeless to bear -
the certainty I'd never, ever, see you again.
I was (and am) grieving even more
than your adoring public, a grief
unexpressed yet so profoundly felt.
Still, I can smile at the recollections, though,
of your wicked sense of humour
and such touching vanity - in which
year did you claim you were born??
But smiles are soon ousted by bitter tears.

There is only your alter ego to cling to now:
Bernie Scripps, frozen in time
within a treasured collection of videos
resting on a special shelf. And those post cards
you sent from Goathland and New York
have taken on new significance.
Their images and words are stuck in my skull
where they evoke so vividly
each separate memory of you in life.
But your future was obliterated by the thunderbolt:
our distant friendship, your stardom - all
are consigned now to memory's sombre tomb
and I, at this moment in time, am nowhere.

Oh how I wish I could become as stone,
unable to feel,
for this agony of loss
catches so in my throat...