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Saturday, September 19, 2015

Loss At Summer's End

for Courtney

The sirens called to villages all around.
"Send your fire trucks!  We've got
lives to save!  A house is ablaze!"
Brave men in yellow with oxygen masks and tanks
could do little except cool the cinders and cry.

As we struggled to accept this we said,
"...a good young woman."  "...a selfless soul."
"...died trying to save her grandmother."  "...so like her."
Her life ended with so much
for her to experience.

And the news reports say:
"Tragedy," "Loss," and
"Courtney Fischer, 19..."
And lots has been said about being shocked,
and lots has been thought about her absense.

As a high school student she often said,
"But Mr. Lentz, what if..." "I can't get it done?,"
or "I forget it?," or "I don't understand?," or "I get it wrong?"
The world will still be here for you tomorrow
to try again, to make it right.

Grieve as we must, we also must live.
"How lucky you were to know her. 
How sad for those who will not."
If we cannot revel in being alive on this day,
then we will likely never find a day to be happy.
Go here to read Courtney's obituary:  http://juneaumessenger.com/2015/08/12/courtney-helen-marie-fischer-age-19-of-lyndon-station/
And here to read her grandmother's obituary:  http://juneaumessenger.com/2015/08/12/judy-fischer-age-68-of-lyndon-station/ 

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Missy Marie

I always had the sense that Missy was seeing things we
humans couldn't see and that she couldn't understand.

In 13 years you never hissed
or bared your teeth, peace kitty.
And only in your last
days did you cry in pain.

As a kitten you had large,
rabbit legs (one of which
was orange and apparently
stolen from another cat).

The laser pointer was okay,
but you obsessed over plastic,
Coke-bottle caps.  Hand targeted
head-butts continued until you

had gotten enough attention
or resorted to a loud,
endearing mew.  You interrupted
when I least wanted, but most needed,

to set aside what I was working on.
And it was the rare minute that
passed in 13 years without your purr,
sometimes audible across a room.

As patient as you were demanding,
I could hold you when I cried and
you insisted on sitting with/on me
when I wasn't feeling well, doctor kitty.

You snuck onto the deck
a few days before you died
even though you never liked
being outside.  What did you

think of the sunshine that day?
Of the birds at the feeder?
Life is brief, philosopher kitty.
Your "goodbye" to the world?