In Memory of Kurt Leswing – November 7

I don’t normally write poetry. Actually this may be the first time I have ever written it outside of an assignment. But for some reason that is where my mind went when I learned about Kurt. So here we go:

I Know

I know three too many people who were lost too early –

Four if you count my Uncle Greg.

I know very little about Jason.

But I do know that he garnered my brother’s respect,

And I know that my brother’s respect is very hard to garner.

I also know that he was not in pain when he passed,

Because he was strong enough to let us all know that.

As little that I knew about Jason, I knew less about Cliff.

But judging from the numbers – the swells –

That paid their respects at his viewing

(and Jason’s funeral)

I know that they were both great kids.

Kurt, well I know that he was a great kid.

I know that I slept in his tent.

And he pretended to be mad –

But, really, it gave him a chance to go somewhere else.

I know this because he slept with two girls instead.

And he laughed as he yelled at me

For making him sleep in their tent.

I know they all had dreams – because everybody our age does.

I know they were all excited, on the top of the world, right when they lost it.

Cliff had just returned for his second year,

Excited to live with all his friends in a new house.

Jason had just started college –

And he even pushed through classes until the end.

And Kurt was travelling the globe on an itinerary

Packed full of adventure and fun.

I know of three tragedies that are incredibly hard to bear.

I know that it was unfair.

What I don’t know is how to justify any of it.

And I don’t know if I’ll ever know that.