HMS Scylla and Odinn collision (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Roger was 19 and flying high
An Air Force man in the sky
I was only five and still close to the earth
Who would guess there would be a rebirth?
Unexpected the local policeman did announce
Rough and unsympathetic, his life he did renounce
My Mother in her apron, with nine to count,
From her feelings, silently did dismount
In the plane with eight other young men
An engine exploded and took them to their end
For a week, five days no less
The bodies had been laid to rest
Near Iceland, in the cold Atlantic sea
No bodies to bring home, no way to set us free
All were dressed in black
As in the St. Michael’s Church we sat
A strange rectangular box in front
Draped with an American Flag, death hitting us blunt
Footprints of Thoughts 
Love all your poem, but the Carpet Diem, have something special, life in time that run on everybody.
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what a terrible loss! i am afraid that you are talking about your own brother. i am so sorry that you had to face it.
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Yes, it was my brother…it has taken me until now…37 years later…to write about it. Thank you for your thoughts.I remember my Mom saying how crude the policeman was to her. It was a difficult time but I know Roger is with God.
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I love this….did not know about your brother.
This is meaningful to all those lost at sea.
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How sad! Pain for the loss of a loved one just becomes a familiar ache – it never goes away.
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again–you so much captured the pain of what was and still is.
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