Last week, in the reluctant autumn sun our dear friend and fellow poet, Kerry Leves left us with memories, words and light, for the other side. Goodbye for now, Kerry.
Why am I sure
that this rite is what I came for?
Why does this thin smoke
pouring into a windless sky
seem like a triumph?
(from ‘Varanasi,’ by Kerry Leves 1948-2011)