TO JOHN RIDLAND IN HEAVEN
1 Six foot six, the both of us,the two tallest poetsin Santa Barbara,though you had thirtyyears on me and a superiorsense of song—not tomention that long patriciannose,an eyebrow thatarched at someone’sbalderdash, and avoice cultivatedby higher education,soothing even when itfaltered as you searched for abon mot. 2 Frost was your ‘subject’,but