Luke (1996-2015)

You chased the sun and never saw the sun
Set, refracting light across the darkening sky.
Yet in the end the dawning darkness won
And trapped you in the strangulating eye

Of the hidden storm within. You gave and gave,
Inspiring all, and clarified the opaque;
But the greatest gift you gave us none could save,
For none could know you had to stop and take

A lantern through the dark. What drove the same
Sweet hand, that once commanded violins,
To smother and extinguish its own flame?
And so the wounded orchestra begins

Diminished chords. No one heard your cry,
Concealed behind your charismatic mask.
The pains you tried to end just multiply
In all you moved and touched, who simply ask:
Why?

Falling Star

A lovely stone from heaven skimmed the sky
And blazed a luminary trail up high:
A path of brilliant sparks whose sunny glow
Cast light and warmth beloved by all below.

But all this love alone could not discern
The day the lovely stone started a turn
Toward dark and silent vistas, far beyond
The mist, and fell above a secret pond.

A heavenly stone hit waters far away;
The ripples move me still --- night and day,
At home or school. Oh lovely lovely stone:
You broke my life the night you took your own.

Ken Croswell is an astronomer and author. He dedicates these poems to the memory of Tim Franks and Luke Tang.

"Rhyme annoys people, but only people who write poetry that doesn't rhyme, and critics."
--- A. E. Stallings