She should have been among that group of students on the plane
To stroll the gardens of Versailles she should have had the chance
She should have been with all of us when we came home again
In 1987, when she never went to France.
I can't but wonder, when she crossed the street that fatal day
If she were thinking of that gala summer she would spend
Were her last thoughts of sipping coffee in a street café
Or walking hand-in-hand through Paris with some new-found friend?
We thought of her from time to time, but never did we dwell
On subjects much too somber for a summer meant for fun.
I must believe that in His wisdom, God has made it well
Her spirit glides above the Seine, her dreams undone redone
Oblivious to her demise, forever in the past
I like to think that Jennifer arrived in France at last.
© October 15, 2004 by Allan M. Heller
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