to a soldier on the shore — a tiny poem — Memorial Day


a prayer for your soft landing,

a prayer for your limbs, your soul

for the day you went in all alone

the day you said, “I’ll do it,”

“I’ll atone”

picking up the torch your forefathers bore

that last time when there was a war


mine was a generation of doves, our wings

beating for the harmony that could still sing

beating against the corporate kill

our tears for soldiers facing the ill

our tears for soldier’s blood and limbs

and all the hope that such wars spilled


you, bravely born into another time

another set of quests, same mines

now your souls, shored, and shoring

bearing up the old man’s burdens

on this day of mourning


don’t let them kill what’s best in you

keep that in your heart, your mind, your limbs

your upraised arms that screech

a civilization’s wounding, on some beach


know somewhere your mother is weeping

to a soldier on the shore

her lost sons stung by stings of war


“to a soldier on the shore” — copyright 2011 — all rights reserved


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