taps echoing

(for my uncles, Albert & George Atkins on Memorial Day

Veterans of WWII)

unceremoniously
your photos stand
against the debris of suburban life
garaged with tools
and transportation
wheels and windows
boxes and broken glass

stored here
your photos stand
for the memory of war
the honor of service
the love of country

accidentally remembered
an afterthought of lawn mowing
trimming and hedging
chain sawing
hammering, nailing
do-it-yourself mentality
for fixing up

but not for war

graphic images
of two uncles who went to war
then came home to live

the American Dream

now
both are gone with
no ceremony
no phone call
no visit
no possibility

this poem is hardly enough

Barry DeCarli
Ferrisburgh, VT
Copyright 2009 Barry DeCarli
Revised 05/29/11
Reposted 05/24/12