You were gone, and they burnt your body

And all that you were became ash and air.

Two of oxygen and carbon, one,

Inhaled by the green sward of college lawns

Gases sifting and swirling in Hall and cloister

Carrying the redolence of aged bindings

Water, to mingle with the Isis and the Cherwell,

as punts slip and glide overhead.

Dust, to dust but then to root,

Building tall the tree and the garden.

No atom of you will ever cease to be

Nor will our memories and our love

In memory of AG, once very dear to me, who was murdered in his home this year.