We're taught to never speak ill of the dead. Well, then, what do we do? Perhaps we forgive. Here's a lovely poem by Sarah White, who lives in New York. It's from her book from Deerbrook Editions, Wars Don't Happen Anymore.

Nothing But Good...

I will not speak ill of Jack Flick.
I will rarely look
at the scar he made on my cheek
one summer at the lake.

I won't speak ill of Jack whose freckles
and gangly legs are gone.
So is the drained face I saw when he saw
what he'd done with a sharp rock
nonchalantly skipped.

I will speak well, for it was somewhat
sweet to lie on the dock while Jack
and his friends bent down
and wiped my face with a sandy towel.
I will speak well of them,
for most are gone
and the wound proved small.

I will speak well, for the rock
missed my eye. I can hardly find
the scar. Jack went into the air
corps, fought in one of the wars,
retired, and lived less than a year
before his tender heart gave out.

I will speak well of Jack.

American Life in Poetry does not accept unsolicited submissions. It is made possible by The Poetry Foundation ( www.poetryfoundation.org ), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2015 by Sarah White, “Nothing But Good . . . ,” from Wars Don't Happen Anymore (Deerbrook Editions, 2015). Poem reprinted by permission of Sarah White and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.