Two Eulogies

Here lies our dead friend.
At last, he finds sound reason
For his rotten stench.



I lie here now, in stiff repose,
One pebble from the sand.
I wasn’t known well nor marked among
Those ‘round me—not so grand.

Look closely, though, and you may find
(As many others wouldn’t)
On close inspection, one or two
New traits that others couldn’t.

No single bit made me the best
Of any occupation.
Together, though, they add up to
A worthwhile combination.

I danced and fenced, and sang high tenor,
Too seldom wrote stories and poems.
A teacher, a dad, and occasional friend
To some, once I’ve set out to know them.

Just one little pebble, stirred to and fro
By a churning, turbulent surf
Is now come to rest, having slipped by so many
More pebbles in this sandy earth.