Looking down the barrel of Chapman's gun
Lennon was unaccountably struck
By a surge of happiness for this world
No two moments the same no two things
The hydrants outside the Plaza, pigeons
In Central Park, the magnificence
Lost, found or made, the way
Two guitars can sing together and alone.
Life. Beauty. Music. The tracks he had to cut.
Lennon was in love with all of it.
And then the bullet hit.
Peter Jukes 1988