Sunday, August 17, 2014


Photo by Jose Rosa

Not all poetry is pretty,
or about beauty, or what makes us happy.

Some is sad
the way the night snuffs out a day
that will never return,
or the way a flower wilts succumbing
to disintegration.

Some is about life, how it ends,
like a star, once alive with fire,
leaves a black hole that poetry can't fill.

But I don't think there's a poem
about you, Sheryl,
how death comfortably set in
for days before
its stench permeated the questions and fear
of those who found you.

I didn't know you enough to grieve.
Still, I wish I could write a tribute
in appreciation of all you may have been,
something to help you rest,
in case that's really the goal of death.

I think of you, lifeless now.
Wonder if I do write such a poem
will someone read it?
Will you?

(Submitted to Poets United.)


  1. oh i'm glad you wrote a poem for her... sounds like she lived a lonely life when she was found only days after having been dead... too many lonely people today in those apartment houses - and no one misses them for days when they're gone... sad... i bet she reads it myrna - and loves it

  2. So sad when loneliness has reached that stage.. not any pretty poetry indeed...

  3. What a moving poem you have written, Myrna. How tragic to die and then not be discovered until the stench brings others near. Who really knows what she was or might have been; but she was a human being and definitely deserving of recognition....which you have given her!

  4. This is a very moving poem, Myrna. It is a shame that people can live side by side and not even notice, or care, when the neighbor is not seen for some days. We have certainly lost part of the art of living.

  5. Sad, but, a wonderful sentiment.

  6. Life is fragile and moments are like drifting sand, wonderfully captured.

  7. This is so moving Myrna--so glad that you wrote it and that I read it today

  8. Moving and powerful.
    Life is not always pretty - and neither should poetry (or any art). Truth has a beauty of its own, which transcends prettiness.
    Thank you.

  9. Myrna,

    Thank you for sharing your thoughts about Sheryl...At least a world of strangers to her, have thought of her, thanks to your kindness in that respect...


  10. Even though you did not know Sheryl well enough to grieve, your words still evoke such a sense of loss, particularly, "the way the night snuffs out a day that will never return, or the way a flower wilts succumbing to disintegration." Wow. You have paid a beautiful tribute. Any who knew her well enough to grieve would be touched.

  11. Sad to die lonely ..I think your poem speaks volumes and I did read it..

  12. Oh she so needed a poem from someone, some acknowledgment that she had lived, her life had meant something. How sad to die that way, alone, not found for days. Thanks for writing about her, Myrna. I hope, somehow, she knows and is pleased.

  13. Myrna, how thoughtful of you to pen words for this dear soul. Yes, I do believe she has caught the essence of your poem.

  14. A lovely tribute Myrna ~ Though you hardly knew her, your kind heart grieves for her ~

  15. . . . in case rest is the goal of death ....
    Too many unknown people die alone in their rooms.
    This poem speaks to all of them and to me when I think of the snuffing outs you list and those who I don't know, the Sheryls.

  16. Whether we die with a whimper or with a bang that was not us for our life was what went before. Celebrate our lives for who were were, what we achieved and who we loved, and what secrets we kept. That we pass quietly alone is not the sum of us.

  17. she needed a poem
    and you found the words...and it is ok to grieve
    even those we never knew...we all deserve it when our time comes
    sounds rather tragic myrna...

  18. The stench is something others will deal with. It is what went before her death. I have been present at deaths where I know that the person dying would find it very discomforting at the parties present at their deathbed whom without exception always made certain that the dying knew they were there. On both occasions I was powerless to intervene and it remains a sickening memory, once again reinforcing my belief of the depths to which too many humans will sink.So the idea of dying alone might be welcoming to some..At least they might have a more peaceful death.French literature is brilliant at portraying these types of situations.You have inspired me to write a poem about it Thank you Myrna. I always enjoy your thought provoking work.