Winter Tragedy – 100 Word Story

The icy November winds cut through their winter clothing while horizontal snow bit at their exposed skin. This was all just a part of hunting during a nor’easter.

With a countdown, 3…2…1, the pair launched their duck boat into the whitecap topped swells of the bay and pushed off from shore to pursue their quarry.

Motoring out past the relative safety of the cove, violent wind-swept waves crashed over the bow of the little boat quickly filling the cockpit with frigid water.

This was the last time the two men were seen until they washed up on shore days later.

Laid to Final Rest

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Laid to final rest

With a farewell and kind words.

Eulogies given;

The famous and powerful

Came to pay their last respects.

 

But is this enough,

We’ve been down this road before;

It’s paved with their blood.

Is this just more lip service

Paid to appease the people?

 

As the saying goes,

Actions speak louder than words,

This can’t be denied.

Maybe the edge has been reached

Finally putting an end to the hate.

 

Only time will tell

If these deaths have been for naught.

With man at the wheel

Anything is possible,

But I for one hope for change.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Tragedies Shadow

Tragedies shadow

Looms large over the fallen

Raining blood and tears

Some choose to help, some to pray

Some choose to turn a blind eye

Or no choice at all

Afraid it might be too real

Who am I to judge

I cannot speak for others

As I do not know their pain

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Memories Dot Our Roadsides

Memories dot our roadsides,

Highway or rural it matters not.

Monuments hammered with tears serve as reminders,

Whitewashed, makeshift,

Adorned in faded flowers,

Bleached to muted hues by the noonday sun.

At times dressed with images,

Perhaps names or signs–loves of their lives;

Each one a silent storyteller.

Embarrassed, I often pass without offering a sympathetic glance,

Too consumed with my own circumstance to take notice.

This is not out of cruelty,

Nor is it for a lack of compassion,

But instead due to the chaos of everyday life.

Still–upon further reflection, I wonder…

Whose daughter, son, mother, father were they?

What story do they have to tell,

What were their hopes and dreams,

Are those left behind coping?

Questions are these for which I have no answer.

A solitary cross marks a souls final earthly moment,

Pleading to be noticed and remembered.

I hope to take the time, if only a moment

To wish their spirits well

And to pray for closure for those left behind.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Events, Cohabitors of Life’s Stage

Events, cohabitors of life’s stage,

Script our actions like the strings of the puppeteer.

We are helpless, dribbling fools

In the glaring light of potential tragedy.

With nary a warning, change can be thrust upon us,

Rendering us helpless like children.

How awful the feeling,

Being strangled by crises uninvited, we succumb.

What does the universe want from us,

Constantly testing our resolve,

Raining on our parade ‘til we drown;

Then as if a cruel joke, tragedy is replaced by joy,

Happiness diluting stress.

Not that we ever hoped for the worst,

But that it had never transpired at all.

In retrospect doesn’t this all go toward our maturation;

Making us whole, defining who we are

And who we will become.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

She Blew In Raging (Shakespearean Sonnet)

She blew in raging and tearing at the soul;

A wake of rubble, blood, sweat and tears,

The nation gave to again make it whole,

To still their brothers and sisters fears

Crane and hoe and muscle revived

What Sandy smashed and to the sea let go,

But yet through the horror, hope survived,

Resilience and courage of spirit showed.

Seaside Heights and Park unknown

For an instant became a boardwalk show;

Notoriety and fame unwanted have grown,

Little seashore hamlets we’ve come to know.

The Devil’s flame of hell has retorn,

Again from tragedy it shall be reborn.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~