Gone Between

Anne McCaffrey has gone Between

The Holds are quiet;

the Halls have dimmed.

The Weyrs are grieving,

their banners trimmed.

Drums are covered,

pipes laid down;

a dark day passes

without renown.

Holders raise a glass

and take a moment or two,

give thanks, rejoice, remember

the words that made you true.

You shall live on, and over again,

your stories oft retold,

your sickness and defeats,

and conquests bright and bold.

Harpers sing a soulful tune,

Weavers thread her story,

Miners and Smiths take up your crafts

in homage to her glory.

By thread or hide or smelted steel,

your grit, your blood, your sweat;

give praise to she who wrote you,

for Pern must not forget.

Weyrfolk lament,

your dragons too.

A moment of reverence

is asked of you.

Gold and bronze,

brown, blue, and green,

take flight, give voice:

Anne McCaffrey has gone between.

- Amelia Beare (24th of November, 2011)