Quietly we walked out single file,
Went separate ways. Ron,
Survive, the words that no-one reads,
But a year will come when the bookshelves gleam
cut with your name.
Out of print for thirty years
You fashioned each page
As a rune against mendacity,
Unlovely spirit of the age,
Gathered your fragments, making them real,
Willing us to
see as you had seen.
I homed out of the gates still counting green.
Robert Minhinnick, in correspondance with Ron