Ghosts of Columbine

Ghosts of Columbine

A Poem by Geralyn Miller

Yellowing newspaper clippings

recall the anguish of that day

in Littleton Colorado.

Smears of ink

awaken

the Ghosts of Columbine.

Cassie of courageous faith, unwavering;

brave Daniel, who returned,

opening a door to save others;

Steven of Star Wars fame, the Navy's loss;

Corey, a fisherman, missed Easter in Oklahoma;

Rachel, actress, debater, leader for tomorrow;

Kelly, a poet, recently arrived from Arizona;

Isaiah, strong, courageous, a future record mogul;

Matthew, an "A" student and football player;

John of Wisconsin with generous hands

and charity work;

Daniel, just back from Paris and straight "A"s.

Lauren, honor student, headed to Colorado State

and a career in wildlife biology;

Kyle, with a crush on a pretty girl and serious kickball;

and Mr. Sanders--smiling on everyone,

a special guardian angel for Columbine.

 

These are the sweet, sad ghosts;

memories of friends gone too soon;

Ghosts never to be feared,

but missed and mourned.

 

Yet, frightening spirits linger here,

 lurking in dark corners,

hiding in two empty, unused lockers.

 

Two ghosts, sealed in the library,

condemned

to forever walk these halls;

unanswered question

echoes in the air---

"Why?  Why?  Why?"

 

The dark ghosts do not answer,

they are separate in death,

even as they were in life.

Always outside,

never belonging.

 

© 2010 Geralyn Miller


Author's Note

Geralyn Miller
Many thanks to Selene for turning her critical eye on this peice, to great improvement--THANK YOU!

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you play the strings of my internal violin weeping with this haunting spinerette~ on that day and beyond my heart encased both the victims and the perpetrators~ children all~ victims of a callous society that has forgotten polish the kindness of spirit in its young ones~

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

absolutly beautiful i myself wrote a poem on this matter

Posted 14 Years Ago


you play the strings of my internal violin weeping with this haunting spinerette~ on that day and beyond my heart encased both the victims and the perpetrators~ children all~ victims of a callous society that has forgotten polish the kindness of spirit in its young ones~

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on September 13, 2010
Last Updated on September 23, 2010

Author

Geralyn Miller
Geralyn Miller

Phoenix, AZ



About
I was born in the year of the Dragon, and am prone to roaring for amusement's sake. I have been writing poetry since I was eight. That's right, fifty years of poetry, all written in longhand. In ad.. more..

Writing
PTSD PTSD

A Poem by Geralyn Miller



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