So much of so many lives
Exist only in the ether anymore
The exchange of bits across fiber optic lines and
Through radio waves pervading the spaces
Between ourselves and between our ears
And when those lives end
Their echoes resound in that same ether
Not only the GNU for PTerry but also
Prosaically
The words of others left behind
Posts to social media sites and
Tributes and the like on obituary pages

I’ve written no few of them
Some for people I never met but
Whose works mattered for me
Giving them my own works in meager exchange for
What I had from them
Some for people I knew more or less well
Whose lives had been part of my own
Offering for them some small part of what I have left
Knowing that it was not enough
That it never is enough
Because there is no such thing as Enough
In such matters
And it often takes a death to remind people of it

Some of them
Not necessarily the most recent ones
Remain where I can find them
Without too much effort
Those tombstones well tended
But some
Take some more work to find again
Either in the archives that the courts have let
Something like hatchets hack away at
Or in other searching through
Message boards decaying into decrepitude
More quickly than my body has been failing me
As all bodies eventually do
Hence the need for such things as this
And some
Not necessarily the oldest among them
Falter and fail
Links breaking with the passage of time
Not always much of it
Even measured against the brevity of
One person’s life

Even knowing that
Every echo fades into silence
Given long enough
I worry that
Someday
Someone will press
Delete

Set up a memorial in verse that will last! Fill out the form below to start!

Or you can send your support along directly!