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thisnewdayThere. After days of work, off and on, I think it's done. A poem called "Whatever Else," another one, for Bianca Laura Jean Vocke. If she's to be remembered, beyond the lifetimes of those who actually knew her, went to school with her, performed in color guard with her, then this is the way it will happen.
I didn't know her, though I wish I had. You know, from a bit of a distance: from up in the bleachers, maybe, or behind the serving line of the cook truck, during the two summers she performed with the Colts. Anything for a brief glimpse of that spirit and life that everyone says she brought to things.
Still, this is what I've been given to do. To preserve the memory of who she was and what she did and how she did it. For everyone who knew her and holds the hope that she'll be remembered. And for everyone who didn't but needs to know that someone like her once lived...
I didn't know her, though I wish I had. You know, from a bit of a distance: from up in the bleachers, maybe, or behind the serving line of the cook truck, during the two summers she performed with the Colts. Anything for a brief glimpse of that spirit and life that everyone says she brought to things.
Still, this is what I've been given to do. To preserve the memory of who she was and what she did and how she did it. For everyone who knew her and holds the hope that she'll be remembered. And for everyone who didn't but needs to know that someone like her once lived...
