Elegy for Timothy Patrick Finnegan
By JUSTIN KARCHER
It’s damn near impossible to look into your eyes
And not see a bunch of mischievous leprechauns
Singing Simon & Garfunkel at the end of a rainbow.
Isn’t it beautiful when layers of voices
Fold into one another so perfectly like that?
There are harmonies living in your eyes.
Not many can say that.
It’s a special kind of magic.
Maybe it’s because of your last name
That I imagine a bunch of leprechaun cataracts
Playing football in your field of vision,
Tossing around a gold-plated pigskin
While drunks in the stands are eating too many four-leaf clovers.
They barf so hard that Lady Luck rips their mouths apart,
But you and I know the truth,
That it’s not about winning or losing;
It’s how you play the game of life.
We must be enthusiastic every day.
I wish more people were like you,
Smiling with their eyes
When the days are long
And the nights are blind.