Tuesday, December 13, 2011


After his wife died
his laugh was not as bright,
his thoughts not as sharp.
He had his family and friends.
Hell, he even loved his job.
He took long walks
through the streets of Portland,
seemed to be searching for her,
like someday he would find her.
He never went with another woman.
He lived 21 more years, till 77,
and when he died I hope he found her.

copyright 2011 David Elsey

Saturday, August 20, 2011


The vicious, blameless, universe
killed two high school girls
in my class in 1971.
Betty Wong was smart and sweet,
taken by leukemia.
Susan Thompson, promising poet,
by suicide.
Tonight, forty years later, I think of them.
They would never go on
to the new possibilities women would have.
No college, career, marriage, family.
All that was left
were some good people
crying in the night.

copyright 2011 David Elsey