Death Notice

Occasionally, I scan the obituaries just to make certain, as someone once said, that I am not among those listed. A few months past, a stranger's obit caught my eye.



Death Notice


Nobody of note died today,
no prior President, no Statesman
aged with grace, nobody of renown.

Instead, the newspaper's featured
obituary singled out Ed Smith,
a person of the streets.

Born on a downbeat, an orphanage
for a home, a teenager finally freed
by age and need for WWII recruits.

After the War a "disappointed" mom
found him on her doorstep
and not a letter with death benefits.

Ed tried marriage, but soon "hated"
wedlock. Fixed its failure
on being trapped in a bad luck alley.

A drifter, a drinker, a day laborer,
a victim of PTSD and con men.
An RV with the false promise of heat

his bitter winter lodgings until a samaritan
secured warmer quarters for Ed
and his "best friend," a therapy dog.

Mr. Smith died alone at 92.
I set aside the newspaper unsettled
by the unorthodox obit, his old Navy photo:

a young man's curls escaping a sailor's cap,
and a jaunty smile still filled with optimism.
Despite all, someone of note died today.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor