They lived as ghosts
Between the light and the dark
Leading their lives as dead men
Gone without the funeral
Buried beneath headstones without dates
No green fields to tread upon
And see their names
No flowered coffin to cry upon
They were the chosen
The few
To fight
Chasing the wraiths of freedom
A ghost as elusive as themselves

Five legged Rabbit

Scooting like a beggar

Ears up, paws out

Looking for a hand out

Can’t run

Can’t hide

Dog’s a’watching growling

No hop

No jump

Aren’t you glad she found Ya’?

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It was a brief respite

From the hard work

And harsh horrors

Of the daily routine

It was the warm comfort of home

Steaming into the cold night

Wraiths of scent and flavor

Drifting through the enemy air

It was Shared ’round low fires

That reflected off the rolled wire

Glinting like stars in the darkness

Amid the raucous din of the mess tent

The clank of tin cups and mess pans

Replaced that of rolling treads

The rumbling death

That hunted down the small groups of men

Praying under the Aspen

Laughter, that medicine so rare

Played like wind through the camp

And peace for a moment was here

The food, always to be remembered

Was the only reminder

That they were still men

For a night

If only for a night

They could sleep

Dedicated to my Father Lee Roy Jarrett, 359th Co. engineers U.S. Army, 1941-1946

That child of my youth

Lies now in her bed

As she always did

Covers pulled up to keep her warm

But she is thin and frail

As she was as a young girl

The safety of the bed though

Evades her

As it always did

The things underneath

Still haunt her

And have become real

Those shadowed horrors from below

Have come to claim her

Tubes are snaked like vines

Around her

Invading her

Covering her like an ancient ruin

Finding every crevice to crawl into

A young woman

Now old

The road maps on her skin

Traced not by time and experience

But by tragedy and chance,

Cruel blows that glanced

From her guarding arms

She will never know laugh lines

Burned into her skin by a million smiles

Those smiles will never come

They will only be bitter sweet ones

smiled by us

As we talk about old times

Laughing into the night

With worn grins

And Tired eyes

And the lines will be etched

Into our faces instead

What we measure in decades

She measures out in minutes

Hours are years

And days stretch into decades

Every moment is now measured into a cup

Metered and parceled

On a glowing monitor

The poor girl who never had a chance

Still doesn’t

And never will

It is such a shame

She is such as a sweet girl

And she has such soft hand

I remember

When we still danced like we were young

Under the silvered moon ’round the crackling fire

Spilling wine and laughter

Late into the night

Our own private party

Until the dawn of the day

When we still danced

Like we were young

When the pale blue sky

That blankets the gulf

Turns rippling red

In orange hue

And thunder rumbles

Without abate

To the shelter!

To the shelter!

Before it’s too late!

Steel doors and canned goods

All below ground

Tuck and cover and pray

You don’t hear the sound

Is the world that insane?

How far have they Gone?

Say another prayer

And hope you see dawn