The stories he told will be told no more.
Some light has disappeared out of light
and into the darkness eternal.
Where all stories go, so he has gone.
The moon shines on
but even the moon –
that reflected light
from the fire of life -
like the fire of life -
is not eternal.
We are told these days
that stories are the problem.
Stories are the prisons
from which we must escape.
But we are also told that
there is no we
no I
no me
no self.
We are trapped
but we are not really here.
It is all true of course
and it is all a lie.
A story must live
before a story can die.