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Two of my poems for Veteran’s Day.


Two of my poems for Veteran’s Day.

Fathers Lost

The children and their mothers cry.
Left alone after a bomb
falls into their homes.
Or a lone plane goes down in flames.

Whether in Bagdad,
Or Kosovo,
Or earlier Nam
Or back to World War II.

The fatherless are millions.
The ones who are left,
who live without
their proper legacy.

My sister’s father flew a plane.
A pilot, daring,
circled bravely
o’er Korean fields.

Shot down one day when she was three.
They never found that MIA.
She has a photo on her shelf.
All that’s left of him.

I never knew my father.
He may have died in the war before,
the one where other fathers flew.
Good old W W 2.

But we are all alike, alone.
Whether the name is lost or known.
We are all fatherless, victims of
what war brings to us, everyone.

—————————————————————————————————————————————

Khakis and Tee
He sits by his desk, khaki shorts and tee.
His blond hair is cut very short.
A new stereo covers the wall behind him.
He smiles at his proud new possession.

Take a closer look though, and you can see
a long black sharp-tipped object
pointed horizontally on a nearby shelf.
No one is looking in that direction.

This is no dorm, no university room.
That unspent bomb fell very near
the place where the photo showed he sat.
At least he was safe that day..

Wait until later that week and see
a uniform instead of khakis and tee.
And in the background there would be
his helicopter aiding fleeing Vietnamese.

I never knew if he made it back.
His letters stopped arriving.
We weren’t married, we had no kids.
No government notification for me.

But his name is not on that big black wall.
Does that mean he is well somewhere?
I often wish I knew, what did happen to
that blond sergeant in khakis and tee.

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