By Kevin du Plessis
What would you call a man, a maker,
who with a passion made perfectly
two of his works that grow expertly,
but does not self become care-taker?
Marries his work when passion surges,
beauty he moulds and puts together,
then lets them go for now and ever,
tending to new and darker urges.
An artist he must surely be,
for he left my brother and he left me.