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Sorrow is a communicable disease,
you get it by being alive....
There was no open casket,
a simple mahogany box with golden key
rested on the table
amidst pictures
of a twenty-two-year-life, silenced
by a too-long fall;
the camera's eye caught
his boyish smiles
and generations of men who wore the green
stood together
and women who held him close
now fall apart.
Who was this man-child?
We'll never hear his children's laughter,
Ashes, ashes, and we all fall down.
Click.
Last few words:
As I mentioned in an earlier poem, Spencer was a 22 yr old with everything to live for: movie star good looks, brilliance, charm. Yesterday was his wake.
Editing stage:
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Comments
scribbler
Sat, 2011-09-24 08:54
hello Anna
It is always a tragedy for death to visit the young and even worse when it is death invited. You have my condolences................stan
Candlewitch
Sat, 2011-09-24 12:01
Dear Anna,
A terrible waste of life. It is very sad that one so young dies. Sorry for your loss.
always, Cat
*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.
Kailashana2
Sun, 2011-09-25 07:58
Thank you both for reading
Thank you both for reading and your sympathies.
It's always extremely difficult to write a poem that isn't maudlin or sentimental, without *commercializing* such tragedy.
~A
pleiades
Sun, 2011-09-25 18:08
i found this very moving
i found this very moving
such a sad, sad happening, and so
beautifully written
these lines;
"the camera's eye caught
his boyish smiles
and generations of men who wore the green
stood together
and women who held him close
now fall apart",
made me swallow hard...
sincere condolences A
p