Eulogy for Jeff Evans
Last night sleep evaded me
My mind delved back through a treasure chest of time
To the summer of sixty nine
I had a student job working for the council sweeping roads.
I found myself on Jeff’s street
I remember seeing him come out of his front door
Looking cheerful, whistling
A small curly dark-haired lad resembling Syd Barrett
He saw me and came across for a chat
The usual pleasantries
He was off for a newspaper from the top shop
Would I like to come in for a coffee?
I watched for him to return
I saw him peering out from around tree-trunks
I thought it was a game
He scuttled into his house
The coffee was obviously off
That evening I recounted what had happened to friends
They told me he had been behaving very strangely lately
He thought he was being spied on
That there were cameras in tree-trunks
That his friends were really robots
I thought no more of it
A few weeks later I heard the news
Jeff had climbed on to the parapet of Sir Richard’s bridge
Waiting for the express
In front of a group of school children
Without a thought for the driver
His parents or friends
The people who had to pick up the pieces
He stepped slowly and deliberately into the void
In the dark hours of last night I slipped back through time
Through the years of laughter
Families, reading, writing, travel
Love, sex and children
A career
The failure and success
The tears and losses
All the experiences that make for a rich life
I wonder about that coffee we never had
Goodbye Jeff
Your ghost haunts me through these fifty six years
With confusion of purpose, voids
Life and death
Adios my friend
Opher 21.9.2025
When it all comes down to it, what is it worth? How should we fill the time we have? Sooner or later we all step into that void. What imprint do we leave behind?
If we had only had that coffee maybe…
