i.m. Jeff Buckley (1966-1997)

His body and his voice so beautiful
that it is almost too much. The land and sky,
the trees, the freeways and the houses pull
away from him, bidding him goodbye

in one strong movement of the river
he’s swimming in and singing, with steel-toed boots
and all his clothes, his life a simple shiver
among the currents and the clinging roots.

His lovely body and his lovelier voice
are lost. The world has kept such sweetness longer
so many times before amidst its noise—
the real cause must be much worse and much stronger.