A cold rain drums.

We clutch no umbrella to

deflect bullet drops

shot from leaden sky.

We step over the letters IMAGINE.

Mosaic tiles, small and simple.

Too easy to overlook.

It doesn’t seem enough.

Less than we imagined

As fair as the politics

in a country of guns.

The Dakota looms in the mist.

Her window panes,

streaked by grief and grime,

witness our sodden visit.

We contemplate crossing the road,

to knock upon Yoko’s door,

to speak to her of our love

and of those who brave

 the rain for John.

We hold each other’s hand,

our warmth reassured.

Knowing we cannot intrude.

Downpour shatters the tears

we shed for the Walrus.

"I am he, as you are me,

and we are all together."

"Goo goo a’ joob",

I sneeze in the park.

Bless you, wherever you are.

c)  C.Butler 1994