My mother and our friend at my husband's and my wedding.
As is often the case, I've composed a poem about what has been uppermost in my mind lately, having attended the memorial service for a friend who died at the beginning of March, just this past Sunday. I didn't learn of his passing until later in March, when GEDF (growing ever dearer friend) told me, having heard it from another friend in the vintage SAAB community.
I'll let the poem, found below the orange squiggly dingbat, speak for itself from here.
Thank you for stopping by; please share your thoughts, in poetry or prose, as you feel appropriate.
Kalliope
Means "beautiful voice" from Greek καλλος (kallos) "beauty" and οψ (ops) "voice". In Greek mythology she was a goddess of epic poetry and eloquence, one of the nine Muses.
Join us every Tuesday afternoon at the Daily Kos community political poetry club.
Your own poetry is always welcome in the comments.
Bongos, berets & turtle neck sweaters optional.
The keyboard is mightier than the sword.
My friend at my husband's memorial service.
Farewell to a Mensch
He was one of those friends
I didn't see that often.
My husband and he worked
On those vintage Saabs together
Sussing out their problems as
A labor of love and ingenuity.
He was the one I called
When first I couldn't reach
My husband, who had left us all.
He came to my husband's memorial.
I knew he would be there
If I ever needed him to be,
Regardless of how long had
Passed since the last time
I'd seen him and his sweet wife,
Also a dear friend, in a lower key.
To learn he was gone, a victim
Of a fast, virulent cancer,
Found too late to even begin
Chemo, was too cruel news
To have to absorb in
Difficult times; a man who
Had the gift of making each
Friend feel like his best one.
A leader in the field of
Immigration law, his loss
Is a blow to many beyond
Those of us who knew him
Here where I live. At his memorial
So many spoke of his
Unpretentious manner,
His intellect, his drive,
His sense of mission
In the face of a system
Bent to oppression, and
Cruel injustice, too often. He was not
Afraid of the unknown.
He sought it, welcomed it,
Embraced it, grew in it.
The world was better for his being.
It is a poorer place without him.
He saw my marriage in
In joy, and out, in death.
The hole he leaves now
In the lives of family,
Friends, clients (who
Became friends too)
Incalculable.
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