Wednesday, September 01, 2004


A couple of years ago, one of our co-workers died in a freak accident involving a flooded road. She drowned--only in her 20's and a vibrant writer. I wish I had known her better from the eulogies given by her friends. I'll never forget they had to videotape her funeral because her father was very ill in the hospital. Awful.

She didn't work in my building so we didn't have the opportunity to "hook pinkies." Anyway, I ran across this poem I wrote after she died. Being in a PR office we had to "handle" the release of information, etc. And of course her death warranted a few seconds on the news. I wrote the poem after I saw the newscast.

That Was Good

On the news
You were just a blurb
At first nameless
Until they found your next-of-kin.

Now they have your name
Now they have your age
And where you lived.

I watched as the reporter
Stood in your last place
Cinched in a wrinkle-less trench
Worried about enunciation
She mapped out your demise beyond
Her pointing fingertip.

You had been here
Your car there

In that clip that lasted
A few seconds
It rained and rained and
Swallowed you whole

They furrowed their brows
In dramatic concern
And then it was simply
"back to you"

After which the reporter's
Face released from its nervous
Actor's pinch
And the camera man
Hoisted the machine from his
Shoulder and nodded,
"That was good."

written January 31, 2002

See you in a couple of days...


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