Sam Neill

It feels wrong

When people like you leave.

It shouldn't be allowed.

It's made me sad,

Like a party balloon has escaped

Which brought lightness and joy and giggles

And I'm left here, knowing that it's disappeared, never to return:

Never to be renewed again

And I could do nothing to stop it.

It feels pretty bad

And I don't have the proximity of familiarity

To add intensity

Like others who loved you as dad or husband or friend.

How must that feel?

I've watched you over time

Both repelled and enchanted

By the roles you've played

On the movie screen.

I like you best as a white-haired old man

Holding a duck in his arms

Or strumming a tune on his ukulele

Or drinking a glass of red from grape you've grown.

Is it weird to feel connected to a man I've never met

Except as a range of strangers on a big screen

Or as a warm human on a small one?

I miss you, am going to miss you.

You are missed.