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All that Remains Is Oftentimes More Than You Think

All that Remains ...

All that remains number but few
a mangled scooter for one ....
hidden from view but for all to see
the havoc one mistake had done.

For years on tree bark did knelt
supporting its maple trunk, broadly hewn.
Fearful was I that if memory felt
would be cast to the wind if strewn.

When he rode it home that first night ...
a "giant" astride a motor ride small.
So incongruous the contrast did seem,
what lay before that us would soon befall.

To part with this relic,
would not I his memory betray?
An anguished decision, but I let it go
lest inadvertantly I myself slay.

Unlike the verdant green grass,
that withers so soon fast.
Stubborn remembrance defiantly stay
the course of time long last.


Alan D. Busch
April 2008

I Am Lonely For You, Forever

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I Am Lonely For You, Forever

(Reflections that evening of Ben's death ...)

Drawn back to my house,
wherein her plaintive cries I did hear.
Wept my heart for Ben's mom
with whom I could be neither nor near.

In desperate near madness, oh ... the blackest of nights,
joylessly my family did weep.
So sad when I would have prefered
together with whom I might sleep.

Our child we loved him so much in common,
my mind unrestrained in darkness did roam …
this reality unimaginable, especially stark,
my house … no longer my home.

In memory’s flight I remember this well
when ended Passover they readied to leave.
I felt the burn of his stubbly cheeks
funny how much in remembrance we grieve.

Ben, Ben ... I wept.
We spoke, but then in silence you died.
It was only just a moment before
While slept in my dreams I cried.

So few hours have since elapsed
in the hospital that psalm I did sing.
I am already lonely for you, forever,
when morrow’s morn would no new smiles bring.

Alan D. Busch

April 2008