Whisper

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Photo by Stepan Vrany on Pexels.com

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His was a whisper of a life

lived distant from mine

the red-haired boy I knew

in fifth grade, moved away

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I thought him lovely,

with his hair and guitar

I wrote him in England

he wrote back—once

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He joined the music scene,

following his parents’ footsteps

Composed, sang, backed up

the famous and almost famous

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He faded out of my thoughts

over the years, then reappeared

in a box of old vinyl albums

in an antique store

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Name and face caught my eye

the album cover, red gold hair, beard

I bought it for ten dollars

looked him up on the internet

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He died at age 59, in 2011,

the year my granddaughter was born

A heart attack, so young

Drugs? Years of dissolution?

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His mother survived him by 5 years

Terrible, to outlive your child

How did he spend the years in between,

that boy I once knew?

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