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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: 

Comments

It is always a tragedy for death to visit the young and even worse when it is death invited. You have my condolences................stan

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

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

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

author comment

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

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