You Don'T Know Jack

You Don't Know Jack! I doubt you knew Jack in this life (but that's guessing)! What 'luck' he became both my friend and a mentor, a warrior whose presence would grace any foxhole, with strength, so infectious, his smiles so disarming. I'd guess there are others like Jack (may you meet one!) for blessings like rose petals littered his passing like scars that a carrier carves on the ocean, his waves still shape beaches (exceeding his time here), like monuments raised on Sahara to pharaohs, his shoulders so broad the sun's mass set behind them. The hole's (hole Jack left when he cratered) processing seems worth all the time that it's taken me, encore exists if it does in this life as a dipole (though actions from distant effects are alarming). Invisible fields paint with unseen abandon the future we all face. With time we're amassing a fate on 'gas tablets' of pure self-promotion. May Science, God's gift, be a love God's beloved cheer, more nurture the planet and warm to earth's sparrows, bless servants like Jack. Let blown tires boast of 'white' trim. Brian Johnston 10th of September in 2021 Poet’s Notes: I wrote this memorial poem a year after the death of Jack Stone, whose larger-than-life existence influenced me greatly.