My work is incomplete
Your minstrel voice which used to sooth
is westward now,
But I remember the spirit you brought
and so do the paitents.
How you used to comfort those in pain
physical or emotional
with stories and songs.
I thought you were maybe an angel
too good to be real.
But then you came to us swearing in frustration once
and I realized you are human too.
And I could be like you.