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Saturday, July 30, 2016

Song for Jesse

en.wikipedia.org



From the dock to the cabin took seven minutes.
The little boy ran ahead,
his father following more slowly.
Somewhere along the way, 
he hung his jacket on a bush.
Good boy, Jesse, only seven years old.
When his dad got to the cabin, 
Jesse wasn't there.

Calling, searching, not finding. 
Alerting the neighbors, 
all searching and calling.

In a while, a shout came from the beach:
his father walked the worst 
hundred yards of his life.
Bloody jogging pants is all
the cougar left behind.

In the old theatre, two years later,
Jesse's friends sang a song for him,
in memory,
voices high and sweet,
their father's sobs
in counterpoint.

A sad song for Jesse,
only seven years old.


True story. This happened to a friend of mine, years ago. He lived in a cabin on an island across from Tofino. 

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