Irving Layton died today, two months short of his 94th birthday. Sad news. I thought the man would live forever.
Blue and Lovely, My Love
Blue and lovey, my Love,
are the butterflies on your shoulders.
I heard you sing for them
when you were false to everything
including the snapshot of my grandmother
I gave you under the evening star.
They shoveled me into the cold earth
but I heard your singing:
I was ash but I still heard you.
It is no longer you or your voice
that torments me;
It's the blue butterflies looking for me
between the tall grasses
that grow from stilled desire and disdain
as if they were my hands reaching for your face.
Love Poems, Irving Layton, Mosaic Press, 2002
"I'm knocked out by the richness, the resonance, the generosity, the hard intelligence, the clarity, the passion, and above all else, the great, great aching tenderness..." Leonard Cohen