FOR MR. BROWN As you taught without teaching, we learned without knowing. I once tried hard to write like you, whom I so admired, and so wrote This and then That or even That again, and again, until I began to live a life of my own and recalled without knowing what I really had learned from one who had taught me without teaching. FOR O. JOHN BROWN I was pretty down today with petty gripes about aches and strains of the aged variety, over the result of a soccer game for chrissake, over precious little. But then I thought of your sad passing, sad for us, no doubt an adventure for you. And I sat at the computer with sweet memories of your faithful Olivetti and banged out a verse or two in much the way we do. We who knew you and wanted to do what our magical mentor was able to do so dutifully, so well.