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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.

About This Poem

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: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Ohio, USA

Favorite Poets: Bokonon: “Let your life be the poem you write”. , I'm still writing.....

More from this author

Comments

S

scribbler

13 years 10 months ago

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

Candlewitch

13 years 10 months ago

Dear Anna,

A terrible waste of life. It is very sad that one so young dies. Sorry for your loss.

always, Cat

K

Kailashana2

13 years 10 months ago

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

P

pleiades

13 years 10 months ago

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