Twice twenty-seven,

three times eighteen,

three childhoods worth of life,

and then, gunned down by cheating hearts,

that stopped when there was so much

more to do. 

One a comic actor, one a singer,

both within a week.

It gives me pause, just two years younger,

thinking about it, walking this evening road.

Always we say “in the prime of life”

when we talk about people our age

who stumble off the path,

and fall into the underbrush, lost, unseen.

The first time for me was my college friend,

killed in a car wreck.  She was the one

who would always remind us to smile,

to savor precious little moments of life.

That was her lesson, even after she left.

Then another childhood friend, in her forties,

her cancer a wildfire to her brain.

Love your family while you can,

was her message, and it echoed

in her husband and two little girls.

Now these two men – not friends, but peers.

Both left something to this world, even

if a chuckle, a favorite song or two.

If I’m lucky, I’ll leave a good mark –

maybe I already have.

I realize I’ve stopped, and let this path

spread waiting before me.

I start to trudge again,

gravel crunching beneath my shoes. 

Flanking me on either side,

in the dimming light, I hear the plaintive chirps

of September’s last crickets.

09/28/2003

Author's Note: In memory of John Ritter and Robert Palmer....

Posted on 09/28/2003
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt