John Ogdon

We saw John Ogden play at Oxford's sublime Ashmolean
A year before his sudden death
The blue frescoed domed ceiling
Gave the evening a celestial air
The purity of his notes swooped and soared
Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu. Op66a
A flittering, manic, tortured sonata
Not unlike John's spinning bipolar mind
And my sonata partner at the time.
Both in parallel twisted realities then
Both dead virtuosos now.