The Death of Dually Murphey

Memorial Day 2015 032

Part I

Do I have tattered

Courage to feel respite in the morning?

We mourn the passing of our great friend, brother, uncle and hero

An unheralded and oft dismissed saint of the highest.

We poets, soldiers, teachers

and stakeholders in the bonds of


He, a finder of words and

Fate who breaks our hearts daily.

If we can stay the course of true attention

To the moment

To the ways that defy explanation

It is as though we are cracking open his heart,

Our hearts,

On a page.

Daily, we wonder if we will take another breath

Without his kindness

His gentleness

His breath of concern.

And when we waken

Assured he is still there

At least in our heart shadows

We can rest indubitably

for there is no more pain for him

Only a fraudulent yet precious peace.

‘ Twas cruel fate that kept us apart

The storms thick with victory at the finish line

Yet we were together

Because we were, you know

We really were.

Part II

Like the tide

I long to submerge

and drown

Away from the icy air of reality

The reality of none, no one,

no more you

The death of joy and your voice

The silencing of your song

Your poem

Your deep laughter

Falling, cascading, cartwheeling

Down ’round my heart.

It is under the sea

I am under the sea.