How captivating it is
To watch the sun who was told she must love the sky, to fearlessly defy,
To fall to her knees,
Ignoring others pleas and
With all in sight
Kiss the earth goodnight.

it isn't all black and white
the choke-hold of history

shades of red and brown
paint the scenery, too

the documented imagery
forgotten in the fray

a little big horn playing mournful
songs as the cavalry marches on
to the tune of galleons and guns


no passport required
when the port was young

émigré and immigrant
displacing native sons

who also once were pilgrims
breathing in the sun.

Once, on a Sunday morning, we were 1500 strong.
Then the bombs began to fall and the world we knew was gone.
Our ship, the Arizona, was among the first to sink.
A thousand men, our brothers and friends, perished in a wink.
The war years took too many more, old age has claimed its due.
Now, at this last reunion, we are seven surviving crew.
Old and weak and wheelchair bound, nevertheless we come
to raise a toast to fallen friends long hidden from the Sun.
Our ship became a graveyard on that day in Forty one.
One day we’ll be interred here too when our enlistments done.
With tear filled eyes we drink a toast with vintage dry champagne.
Then pour out a libation so our dead may do the same.