1:00 A.M. Restland Cemetery


1:00 A.M- Restland Cemetery.  

The new year settles,
a white shawl on each blemish,
of last years deep scars.

Snowfall fills the flaws,
but my footprints mar its sheen,
past graves of those lost.

Here is where new years
should begin, amidst the stones,
that mark love's closure.

There is much to learn,
in this garden of people,
I cherish life more.

The car awaits me,
roads beckon fresh directions,
beyond the cold graves.

I drive aimlessly,
the radio plays auld lang syne,
and I hum along.









No Wine Nor Song.

With amputated hands
and no more music
to be had at his fingertips
the veteran from
the senseless Iraqi war,
cradled the wine glass
between his stubs
and attempted to
drown his sorrows
near his dearest friend,
his baby grand,
but it slipped
like his life,
from his grasp,
and became shards
like his arms,
so he simply walked away,
to join the homeless,
and beg for change,
that he would
never be able to hold,
his entire wealth
couched in a paper cup
as he dreamed of the songs
he would never play,
and learned to count money
with his toes.







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Comments 2 comments

Truth From Truth profile image

Truth From Truth 6 years ago from Michigan

Nice poem.

Micky Dee profile image

Micky Dee 6 years ago

Great poem again. I was in Charleston, SC at a Megabucks coffee shop (I love them or actually the people who work there-maybe every coffee shop). I saw two Vets come in. They had one whole arm between them. I tried to buy them gift cards for coffee but they got away too quickly. I wrote about them. I was questioned as to how I could know they were Vets.

There was no question in my mind about their origin. Let's see- it was Charleston, SC. There are many VA hospitals in the area or clinics. Their haircuts gave them away. Their demeanor gave them away. And who cares how they got here? They were Vets of something! They had been bitten and chewed by life. They certainly deserve some coffee.

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