Stupid Eulogy

 

Dalton was an interesting fellow -- 

you might even say odd -- different

from the rest of the crazy crowd.

But I suppose we're each unique

and certain cherished qualies

we summon in our human characters

give significance, making us individually special.

Dalton was a friendly, charming spirit;

passionate and excited

practicing principles and virtues

sprouting from his heart every day.

He was very serious even as a young child

eventually manifesting into monk persona.

We're happy to have a collection

of his thoughts and poems, but Dalton's death

is the greatest tragedy to us.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I thought writing this would be more fun than it actually was.

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J9thxciv's picture

I understand the urge to

I understand the urge to write a poem like this, and it reminds me of Stevens' elegy (one of two) about himself, "The Planet On The Table," but the reality is that you are not yet in the past tense (as your first line implies).  And in this case, the reader is more informed than the poem, because the reader is aware of the greatness you have already demonstrated on postpoems, although the poem barely, if at all, touches upon that.


J9thxciv

[* /+/ ^]