Love Letters
from War
The good ole'
Irish boys they lay in slumber
rose cheeked and guilt singing in their pleasure
Puckered lips and pup faced eyes
cream white skin and muted sighs
Water salty and cold
could not stop for the future sold
which rose with all its might
into a darkened room door shut tight
and changed the course of that young night
in pale skinned light
he appears
stares full of fright
pup faced eyes (dark and teary)
puckered lips (dried and cracked)
Young men braving the realities of war
a letter she
read aloud:
ivy falling
old dreams calling
me home
winding driveway
through dry pine
wilting flowers all in line
the smell
of wisteria
wrapping itself around
this pale moon night
time for
me to say goodnight…
She was listening
to Ella and Basie
when the door knocked
the record stopped and the world stopped spinning
