I was 38 years old when I heard the news. A part of my youth, 
the years of discovery for my generation, 

The Hip were the soundtrack to my teens and twenties.

They were on every radio station, CanCon, 

but actually worth it.

I remember the roadside attraction mosh pit, 

decking the person trying to steal my bag,

dancing the day away to the sounds of New Orleans and At the Hundredth meridian.

They were there at every graduation, 

every night at the bar, 

every restaurant.

And then when I was 38 years old, 

I saw a man be so brave it broke my heart.

A nation showed up to honour him, one out of every three people at their final show,

A country facing it’s identity 

in song and sorrow.

Today a poet has passed away.

Rest In Peace Gord,

Under the Canadian sky which you loved so much.