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Twisting
up the crooked course
to the spot I said my last farewell;
it's been five years today.
A glare reflects from your marker and
steers me through a mass of lonely stones.
Lumbering midst granite statutes of Angels,
Crosses and Praying Hands; and
dead blooms make me want to forget.
Brought a favorite poem by
Herrick,
to the Virgins, to Make Much of Time,
to read and prepared sandwiches
of peanut butter and jelly for lunch.
I've waited and longed for a cure but
the months get longer with each year;
and I need freedom from this weight.
Gave your Army jacket and spit-shined
boots,
to your friend, Pete, to wear
in the Independence Day Parade tomorrow.
By the way, I told him to keep them;
today, I decided life is short and
my feet are for making pathways in life
in lieu of sitting idle.
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