God bless you Mr. Ferrer
Where’er you are.
‘My Father’s house - many a mansion’:
That you’re somewhere I am certain.
One remembers José, powerful as Cyrano.
Now we shall remember you;
Compelling, formidable in all your roles,
You unintentionally stole the roles
Becoming one with each.
And one is sad! Nigh inconsolable!
Sixty-one! So young these days!
No phrase of admiration, value and esteem can reach you,
Few can match you, rate you high enough.
And I, engulfed in loss,
No grading high enough
Shall miss you.
[Coming home, turning on the Mac, tuning in the radio, expecting to see, hear the installation of the President-elect, I read instead “Miguel Ferrer is dead”. Priority is clear. Dear Mr Ferrer takes precedence. ]