Why must a mother mourn her son at Christmas?
Why must a father lose his daughter fair?
How will we bear the sorrow of this season,
when days ago their laughter filled the air?
Why can’t we just get along?
Can’t our friendship still be strong
even when we disagree?
Why ya gotta wail on me?
Verdun, by Felix Vallottonthen and now, war is the same
guts and glory, brawn and blame
rage, remorse, and alibis
searing truth and crushing lies
“Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November.”
This I muttered to myself,
pulling pamphlets off the shelf.
call me from the sea to meet you
in the breach of dawn and dusk
shapes and angles flow to greet you
midnight masses, morning musk
You hold forth in your wisdom
as if truth began with you,
each argument refuted by
your “worthy” point of view.
Unflinching resolution is
a phrase that always conjures you.
Your war cry is “Snap out of it.”
And “Seize the day” is your world view.
How beautifully leaves grow old.
In glory, they slip away.