Friday, November 01, 2002

Sarah read a poem of mine at Craig's memorial service on 10/27 (see below). She selected the piece, called Two Geese ( a poem based on actual events), because it represented for her the tragedy of Craig's death in regards to the union that was Craig and his wife of many years, Dorrie. When two people unite in love they become something greater than themselves, they give birth through their affection to a third entity called Love. My poem does not address these issues directly but Sarah believed it to be appropriate. I had some concerns initially about her reading a piece of mine but, as it turns out, it was appropriate. Not least because Craig - as a published writer - was, perhaps, the first person besides Sarah to read my stuff back when I first began sending it out into the world.

A day or so before the service, Sarah - who had a copy of Two Geese with her at the office - allowed a coworker to read the poem. I was amazed to hear (and Sarah was amazed to inform me) that her colleague, upon reading the piece, gasped and burst into tears. This woman, by Sarah's account, is not anywhere near the hysterical or weepy type. I still find it hard to absorb that something I wrote could cause so visceral a reaction in a person. As an artist, I suppose, there is no greater complement.

Here's the poem. . .

Two Geese

Waddling across three lanes of traffic,
two geese long necked and starry white
in the rush of headlights.

It seems they are attempting,
like the chicken in the joke, to cross the road.
Or perhaps they lit upon this dangerous ground
while the automobile flow was at an ebb,
only to find themselves beset.

We pass them at 30 m.p.h.
and wonder why they do not fly.

A red light stops us
and in the rear view mirror we see
the inevitable reflected.

In that small rectangle of glass
one of the misplaced pair is struck down
by Fate in the shape of a Ford sedan.

The remaining goose flutters into the night
and whatever brief history awaits it, alone.

�Geese,� you observe sadly,
�mate for life.�

Seconds later,
wind tossed feathers blow by.

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