A School Girl in India…

Suicide can  leave survivors with deep anger, only to discover something previously unknown about the deceased, something that makes the loss even harder to bear.


A School Girl in India…


became your first pen-pal

and next her younger sister,

and then another,

wanting to practice

their American English.

Those envelopes

from Yucca Valley

addressed in your perfect

sans serif handwriting

announced gifts:

your drawings

and books,

items close

to your heart,

introductions to our

culture and art.

When years later

the young women

came to the States

for university,

you mentored them.

In turn, they mothered you.

Purest affection:

you never met in person.

When we phoned them

with the news,

they soon sent

flowers and their

heartbroken poems.

One of their sisters

still in India

lit a clay lamp

for your soul,

sat it on the Ganges,

and watched it

float away,

the flame burning

until the lamp

was too far to see.

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I've been writing mostly poetry for many years and have gotten a number of works accepted in publications and anthologies. I'm most interested in communicating with poets for whom craft is a high priority. I enjoy finding and commenting on poetic gems in other people's work. For my own work, I welcome polite comments, whether positive or critical.

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