I attended a funeral this week. A woman who had been my friend and mentor for thirty years passed away after an illness, and I was called to reflect again on the comings and goings of life.

When Sydney Banks and Dr. Roger Mills passed away, I wrote the poem above, a personal insight looking at my own aging and our collective illusions around death and loss.

I would love to think that when my time eventually comes, there will be a New Orleans jazz band handy.