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Elegy for a Chance Encounter
Who will speak his fond farewell
By those who knew him as I did
From a brief and chance encounter?
While others in attendant rows
He so better known to them,
Speak the first of last and lasting
Memories built from closer, longer,
While my quiet unsaid murmur
Calls to all anonymous others,
Whom this man, this George
Briefly zested with his life,
By his relished erudite flourish
They answer now unheard, unseen
For all our non-eulogized encounters,
For the more than ephemeral effects
Of touching briefly the being of us,
The unknown others.
Review Request (Intensity):
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words:
This is a resubmit of a poem on the old Neopoet. Some found the first confusing so I am trying to clear that out.
Back story: I met George, retired from the Canadian military after being introduced at a friend's party. He had a certain dash and flourish. Accompanied by his wide ranging interests, interest in others and knowledge that dash and dapper dress was a wonderful wrapping. We enjoyed a few hours together and I was affected by his life fullness.
A couple of months later I was told he had died. Turns out he had been a military spy (who knew?). His naked body was discovered washed ashore in the Grand Cayman where he had gone for a vacation. The circumstances of his death remain a mystery.
I not much for funerals, but being so affected by him I went to the memorial. It was there that the thoughts for this poem came to me. There are probably, I thought, many others for whom George had the same effect, not there. I felt like I could at least speak for them.
Editing stage:
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Comments
ArrowWords
Mon, 2011-01-24 17:50
Some Changes
Thanks for the suggestions. I included all but one. I can't let go of "zested", because it felt so much as if I were a bit of a bland dish to which his presence added a zest. Actually being at his memorial was not so much lonely as an awakening to how it must be that those who touch us may disappear and while thankfully their closer friends are there to remember them, there will always be so many of us who are not or do not speak yet in a way are present nonetheless.
Here is the original:
Who will speak the fond farewell
For him from chance encounter?
While others in attendant rows
He so better known to them,
Speak the first of last and lasting
Memories built from closer, longer
While my quiet unsaid murmur
Calls to all anonymous others
Whom this man, this George
By his relished erudited flourish
Briefly zested wiith his life.
They answer now unheard, unseen
For all our uneulogised encounters
Ephemeral effects of touching briefly
The being of to be unknown others.
The only thing I am left wondering is whether the opening was sufficient in the original.
Thanks again for your comments.
Cheers,
Don
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