Death Defied in the British Library
I sit across from Wayne, but decades on
And much improved. Not only young again,
But cuter nose, and lips more cushion drawn,
More velvet-shaped—too lovely, these, to deign
To pray or sing a Sabbath verse. The hair
Is lovely, dark, and deep, as if no years
Had intervened. It has a sweeter flair
And sweep in backward motion as it clears
The bottoms of his earlobes, barely. Wayne’s
Was always longer and his beard grew coarse,
Whereas this incarnation has mild stains
Of whiskers only. Wayne’s was more like gorse.
..The chin is just as strong but isn’t cleft.
….It has a certain holy, saint-like heft.