I'm too anguished to find the words myself for such a sad event...so I'll use the words an anonymous poet wrote for a beloved one who left. Somehow Plaw will always be alive as long as we remember him.
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there, I did not die
I don't want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic. I try to give that to people. I do misrepresent things. I don't tell the truth. I tell what ought to be truth (Blanche/A streetcar named desire)
