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Our Boys

For The Mothers

1.
 
We watched our boys go,
We watched them Leave,
Beneath an unforgiving sky;
Not even the Faintest Ray of Sun,
Kissed our children’s minds,
Kissed so sweetly,
Like an echo, they followed,
Like an echo,
They marched away,
 
Away to battle,
Away to War,
Away to Death,
 
We stood crying,
Stoned faced,
And helpless,
We stood,
Weeping,
As our children left,
 
2.
 
The dusty old clock that hung above the bookshelf,
Became somewhat of friend to my tired empty eyes,
As I watched the minutes go by like sand shards,
Wondering when my boy would climb the hill,
Climb the hill and return home alive,
 
I had a drink every now and then after our boys left,
Seemed the only way to get through the moments,
That could only be counted in memories in my mind;
Then the tears would roll down like Panzer tanks,
Doing their own damage, which a drink would fix,
Oh! How painful these moments of life are to survive,
Hoping, seeing him climb the hill, and returning home alive,
 
3.
 
Time mustn’t exist for it cannot be already four years,
Since our boys left,
Time cannot be like that,
Passing so fast and seeming so slow,
I now move like a ghost;
Drink like one…clean like one…breathe like one,
Feel like one, talk like one,
I spend my hours gazing at the hill,
The hill as they left yesterday,
Four years and no reply,
To letters sent with eyes not entirely dry,
Dreaming, seeing him climb that hill,
And return home alive,
 
4.
 
....My boy is home!
He came through the door and wrapped me in his arms,
Swung me like a doll, oh so delightful, and then made tea,
He spoke of violence no man could imagine: of how many,
Boys had died simply by walking or talking or fighting,
That he managed to survive, kill a few enemies, of which,
He was ashamed,
“Once you kill a man Mother, you steal something that,
Should’ve never been setup to steal in the first place.”
He ran a hand through his hair and said,” Momma, I must sleep,
For this land is to heavy, to dreamlike right now, come see me goodnight.”
I saw him, my boy, to his bed, that had lain empty for so long,
He held my hand and I held his, whispered something I couldn’t hear,
Then he asked to me sing a children’s song,
I nodded and he said,” I love you momma, we will be alright for now.”
I started to fade after while, the weight of sleep overcome,
I fell asleep loving my son, dreaming of how he survived,
And came home alive....
 
5.
 
It was cold and my eyes were shot right open,
I didn’t know who, where, what I was but I ran to the door,
Fell in he mud that had be created by rain and began to howl,
18 years had past,
How could that be so!
I saw my boy, he came home, and he was home!
I ran to his room and it was of skeletal dust,
He’d never come home; it was a dream:
 
A Dream;
 
So vivid like emeralds amongst snow,
I was 78 now and my son had never returned home,
All I had was my tears, my clenched fists, and bleeding soul,
I was utterly and hopelessly left silently alone,
Left to suffer, as one must when your life is dealt that way,
To dream, to hope, to pray against what you know to be true:
That as he left, my precious son,
Was already dead,
 
6.
 
I dared not sleep nor open my eyes for both realities were too painful,
That’s why I laid the old shotgun on the table,
I loaded it once, my husband before he died, showed me how,
And now sat with it, wondering how it would all go next…
 
The rain fell heavy that day,
The rain fell heavy over North Country,
The rain fell over the cottage so alone,
A single shot rang, audible through,
The Forest and Storm,
Where an old woman lay dead,
Perhaps at peace,
For being in turmoil for so long,
But somewhere in the distance,
A babe’s cry could be heard,
For when life ends,
Whether in love or sorrow,
One more person is born,
To live for tomorrow…
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