-Poem to extend the lives of our early dead-

1.

We weren’t among the faithful departed.

We weren’t among the heartless living.

From the writing table's point of view
I've determined we were simply lucky.

Sixty years past and nine years into his life,
Angelo Taggllio  "got bumped”–– which is to say,
Run-down by a fast moving Nehi Grape Soda truck.

Soon afterward, Delores Smiley, too, "got bumped."

From the darkness of the years to come,
Thomas Imbriglio would drown after diving
From the precipice of the quarry's ledge, and Sandra D'Adamo,

5th grade, one row to my right and two desks down

would be vandalized by leukemia.  

These early dead should have received more play;

One more day. One more breath.

Sure, the poems would be proportionately longer, but

I’ve learned to make those adjustments.

A longer line shortens the column, but

The column widens at the beam.

2.

There’s something to be said of you

When the Nehi Grape Soda truck runs you down

When leukemia suppresses the innocence of your blood

When the granite ledge leads you to final water

Whenever I show-up to fill-in the column reporting your death
With the only part of you which is living.

Quequechan