you are my sunshine, my only sunshine
you make me happy, when skies are grey
you'll never know dear, how much i love you
please don't take my sunshine away

the other night dear, as i lay sleeping
i dreamed i held you in my arms
when i awake dear, i was mistaken
and i hung my head and cried.

john berger died. a light of the earth, this writer of earth, i was already missing him when i heard. i have a film of his life in my blackstone library queue, slowly arriving, and i was wondering with r. the other day if he had died. we looked it up and he was still alive. r. wrote that he died yesterday. i didn't know when i came upon these stone memorials in the fog yesterday, but i will borrow them for him, to mark his passage, to show him, he is remembered, he is in our memory now.