And now, Bud Light brings you the Light-On Poetry Slam!

A few years ago I got the urge to participate in the local FreeNet's poetry newsgroup. I've written songs for decades, but I had not written a poem since being a kid. This is the first one I wrote, and it comes from before all the coaching the newsgroup residents gave me on avoiding vague or "feeling" words. I would later write poetry that was more technically proficient than this, but I have always been fond of this first one, because it was quite genuine.

Emily

Emily.

A wooden heart sits in the living bouquet. Your name is on it.
But you are not here, just a memory of someone who came and fled
Like a shadow or a passing eye.

I have paused here and wondered often
in this quiet place near the beach, in this small sleepy town.
Who were you?
What were you?

I know a little

24, married by the look of it
And you lived here, but I can guess no more
The rest I imagine.
I wonder what melancholy story is behind this plot
I can only imagine the hearts that broke with you
I envision the lonely glance at a picture on a mantle
The soft whisper in the wind of your name when they visit you.

But all I find here is the echo of the living
in a tender wooden heart carved with Emily.