[Peter Ledger in a Czech Zlinn stunt plane]

25 Oct. 45 - 18 Nov. 94

Dead, rotten, in the ground,
To see no more, to hear no sound,
To taste not of the tang of wine,
Nor feel the curve of love entwined,
To ride not on the waves of air,
Nor penetrate deep Neptune’s lair,
The powdered slopes no more to run,
No flashing shaft nor bucking gun,
To dine not from the laden table,
Unmoved by words or song or fable,
To but lie entombed anon,
‘til body, mind and earth are one.

Peter wrote this poem himself, on 24 May 1991. He asked me to type it up for him, and said "This will be my epitaph." It wasn't a matter of foreknowledge, it's simply the way he was. He lived for the moment, for the day, always aware of his mortality.

This epitaph is part of a unique three-dimensional bronze plaque on his gravestone.
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Art & Epitaph © 1991 Peter Ledger
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