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Open Poetry #7
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“Cause of Death: numerous gunshot wounds to the head.”
| Open Poetry #7 |
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“Cause of Death: numerous gunshot wounds to the head.” |
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Rosemary J. Gwaltney Senior Member
since 1999-08-26
Posts 997northern mountains, Idaho 
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~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Smoke on the water, fire in the sky. Good-bye. Good-bye. ~ Your mother’s voice broke into our lives like an terrifying air-raid siren shrieking against the skies. Her phone call shook me to the core, in the early morning, I learned; while the children, then teenagers, who had never known you, were asleep. Too soon your hourglass had turned. “I have some bad news for you, Rosemary. Jimmy was shot and killed last night.” ~ “Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!” ~ Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind. I’m so very sorry. ~ “While he drove his taxi, an unknown assailant shot him in an apparent attempted robbery”. It made all the local news stations. I’m so very sorry. ~ Smoke on the water, fire in the sky. Good-bye. Good-bye. ~ I perceived a fierce, alien planet, as though from a faraway foreign place, as your children saw your peaceful face for the first time, lying in your coffin. You had two jackets on - the church one your mother insisted upon, and the Resurrection motorcycle one that your own culture - your hundreds of buddies demanded. I whispered my choked farewells to you alone. Good-bye. Good-bye. ~ After the preacher spoke to the silent, packed long double rows of pews, your best friend recognized me after thirteen long years; walked slowly over to me; hugged me in front of the hundreds, told me he was so sorry, and handed me a picture he had found in your apartment, of the babies. You had not forgotten. Tears. Tears. Outdoors, in the June subdued afternoon, after the sincere Christian funeral your mother arranged for you, we joined the hundreds in grieving, as they solemnly burned your motorcycle gang jacket in the cemetery, as a sign that there would never be another you. ~ That - I already knew. ~ We taped the bitter news at 5:00 P.M. Because of the hundreds of single-filed bikers, the scene after your funeral made all the local stations. That video remains the childrens’ tiny legacy. ~ Smoke on the water, fire in the sky. Good-bye. Good-bye. ~ How I hate those words, the frozen two, “good-bye”, and “die”. Your children are nearing thirty now, yet tears for their sorrow, can still spring to my remembering eye. ~ Bye-bye- all-American pie. Good-bye. Good-bye. Good-bye. ~ ~ ~ The spiritual wind that holds survivors aloft, plants the seeds from which bloom new hope ... R.J.G. [This message has been edited by Rosemary J. Gwaltney (edited 05-14-2000).] |
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| © Copyright 2000 Rosemary J. Gwaltney - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Wow. This bounced me back and forth from the past to the present and back again. The title drug me in; I thought it would say it all...it did not...truth is stranger than fiction in all reality... hugs, Rosemary, many, many hugs... |
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netswan Senior Member
since 2000-03-28
Posts 1369Washington |
What a sad tale - and so well written. Life has its way - that sometimes you just shake your head and wonder at it all. Thanks for sharing - hope you and your two children have done some healing from this tragedy netswan |
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lucky Senior Member
since 2000-01-17
Posts 1601Idaho |
Times have certianly offered a trying... Such things we have to write of today... Thank God there grown and gone their way. You know I knew he hadn't seen them through any of their growing years, but I couldn't imagine the night you dredged up the stairs of courage to wake them and tell them their dad had been shot to death. You know I knew Jim differently in those early years and too, he did came to our rescue more than a time or two, (something I would have never believed.) I have to hand it to you on this one baby, thirty some years ago is a long time. Thank you my love for the sharing. (you can still surprize me of so much times forgot). Always your Lucky, Dale If I could paint a portrait, of this life in which I've led, and somehow sketch a story, of the visions in my head, I'd start out with a canvas, stretched tightly in a frame, and in the bottom corner, I'd leave room to sign my name. (Michelle A. Bartley) |
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Rosemary J. Gwaltney Senior Member
since 1999-08-26
Posts 997northern mountains, Idaho |
Sunshine - thank you for your caring. Yes, it is true - truth, at least my own strange life's truth, is CERTAINLY stranger than fiction! netswan - thank you so much for your response. Life really makes me shake my head too, back and forth, with disbelief sometimes, and sorrow. lucky - my darling, if it weren't for you, they would have had no daddy. You gave them a daddy of their own. Thank you for loving me through all the crazy years, as I have loved you. Thank you for loving the children. Thank you for being so unselfish and kind, and for replying to this old, sad memory that an old song at four in the morning blew back into my brain like an atom bomb. Thank you for understanding. Yes, he was a good man. Thank you for remembering that too. You, my sweetheart, are my hero of all time. ~ ~ ~ The spiritual wind that holds survivors aloft, plants the seeds from which bloom new hope ... R.J.G. |
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doreen peri Member Elite
since 1999-05-25
Posts 3812Virginia |
Rosemary, this is so very poignant, real, and vivid. Thank you for sharing this. And to both you and your husband... your posted words here bear witness to a love between two people that can survive and grow stronger through all the sordid circumstances of life. It is a breath of fresh air to view your love for each other. |
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