Testimony

[pecunium]

Mike Ford died a couple of days ago. I mentioned it in passing.

Those of you who didn't know him at all (I only knew him through the community of letters, which is the internets), well there's nothing much to say. He was an amazing man, and the wake at Making Light has made me more aware of that.

Here, by way of passing along a little of the something he brought to the world, is a poem.

Against Entropy

The worm drives helically through the wood
And does not know the dust left in the bore
Once made the table integral and good;
And suddenly the crystal hits the floor.
Electrons find their paths in subtle ways,
A massless eddy in a trail of smoke;
The names of lovers, light of other days—
Perhaps you will not miss them. That’s the joke.
The universe winds down. That’s how it’s made.
But memory is everything to lose;
Although some of the colors have to fade,
Do not believe you’ll get the chance to choose.
Regret, by definition, comes too late;
Say what you mean. Bear witness. Iterate.

—John M. Ford