"When my ship comes in
I'll've passed out of mind
Beyond the sight of land
And won't hesitate
For a second
To look back on all this
With fondness or remiss
The air'll be clear
The moon'll be there
And you, whoever
You are and hope to be,
Will be here with my love"

closing lines of "Whiff"

.

Literally ... on a whim I had just flipped through my brand new copy of Common Sense by Ted Greenwald five minutes ago and lighted on this, the first poem in the collection, and was thinking about the photograph at the back and quite what the circumstances were (why sitting on a television, is that orange juice in the glass he's clutching, is he moving in or moving out, and that broad grin and the open left hand in a gesture suggesting a joke has just been told ...) when I discover he's just died.

Sound of a door closing.