Elegy

 
Despite "Lament":
His shadow’s last stand
In that ramshackle shed
By the marey sea,
When trousers were tight;
And Promethean rage
At his blind, dying,
Mock-stoic father’s
Pitiful plight;
And eighteen straight shots
Of false-spirit’s smite
In that bright-dark city
Of nine days’ night;
If my views on God
And Soul are right,
At the very end
Dylan went gentle
Into the Light.

Jerusalem
29 July 2011