Keep a poem with you all day long! Pocket Poetry can be found at http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/406 or create your own! Our Poets today are LIz Eisen and Erica Jamieson.
written by Elizabeth Eisen
A mother buried her son today, a brave young man who gave his life for the country he loved. Nineteen-year-old boys should be studying for midterms or texting friends during dinner or going to the beach, they should be leaving their clothes on the floor, not their blood in a foreign country. Warm spring days are for driving with your son to buy new socks, not for riding in a black limousine following the hearse. Just shy of his twentieth birthday your son is laid to rest and I pray that you saw that we were there, thousands of people lined the streets of your path from church to grave with our hands across our heavy hearts and our flags poised high, tears blurring the sunny day. Gratitude to the Patriot Riders, the veterans whose motorcycles rambled through to pave the way for your solemn journey and to the four-year-old boy holding a sign that simply said Thank You.
In honor of U.S. Army Spc. Rudy A. Acosta
written by Erica W. Jamieson
There are trains in our past. Wooden tracks that we placed introspectively through our hearts winding down hallways, in and out of bedroom doors underneath the crib and below the double sized bed that still doesn’t fit him well. Once I was the passenger to his engineer. I did double duty reading my novel as we traveled through phosphorous towns of make believe. Then came bicycles, a pair of skis, a scooter, a broken arm and always boats. He sails over wings of waves. Fish and yellow birds protect his travel. A father follows in the dingy. In thirty days, is it less? It will be a car, no chase boat. Locomotion fulfilled by a small rectangular slip of freedom. He will say Can I have the keys, and I will watch him go. I feel those small tiny knees across bare floors wobbling tush motoring his first ambulations. See how those antecedent steps propelled him away?