Brian Spalding

One last poem by turbulence / numerics researcher Prof. Brian Spalding

I shall have no regrets when I am dead.

Of deadlines none will matter but my own.

Unwritten papers? Hopelessly misled.

Inheritors? All claimants I’ll disown.

Yet hope, while still alive, there’ll be but few

Who think: I was a fool to trust him.

Now that he’s gone, what am I going to do?

None I would hope; but guess the chance is slim.

Yet, in that soon-to-close window of time,

There’s much I want to do; and think I can.

Always too optimistic is what I’m

Dismissed as. To disprove it is my plan.

‘After such labours,’ I would have it said,

‘It must be truly blissful to be dead.’

Brian Spalding