Happy Birthday John

Happy birthday John, you would have been seventy.
Would you live in a castle in England, in the countryside,
Musing over the hearth at those steel-rimmed spectacles of decades gone by?
When you were young and wore purple coats and green jackets and cried
for a chance at peace.

Happy birthday John.

Would you regret anything of your past, like the rest of us?
You went to a far eastern land with a tambourine in your hand
Forgot the mopcut and let it grow long
So many of us wished for the boy who wanted
to hold our hand.
Happy birthday John. You would have been seventy.

Seventy today.
If you could have made it, what would you say?
Let it be?
Or apathy of old age
Possibly an adage or pithy word
The proverb of a ubiquitous page?
Happy Birthday, John.

Would your marriage have lasted?
Would your songs be fun?
Might the years reel upon you
Saying, "Rest 'neath the mast head"?
You would have been seventy, John.

We'd love to hold your hand.
You would have been seventy.
Happy Birthday John.

Your life was won, but by a thief
You were out walking one day, just walking
Running into a Catcher
The buildings, implanted, just stood and stared
But we screamed in their stead, balking
in silence.

We just wanted to hold your hand.
Happy Birthday John.
You would have been seventy.