Yesterday was Veterans Day
There were parades
And people thanked me for my service
There were deals and meals all over town
If I wanted to pursue them
But I stayed home
To me yesterday will always be Armistice Day
The wars of my lifetime simply do not compare
And while every person who served is valuable
Some sacrificed more than others
When I dwell on this I feel guilty
Perhaps it is best to know that yesterday was Remembrance Day
Now that is an idea that I can get behind
Spending time in votive contemplation
On those who sacrificed all
But Americans do that in May as we memorialize the loss
So, what can we do with Veterans Day?
We must make each day a day to be grateful
For all that we have
And a memorial to all that we lost along the way
Yesterday was Veterans Day
But today I look at my bundle of silk, paper, and plastic poppies
Collected over the years
And I realize the power of remembrance.
Vietnam Veterans Memorial
The leaves are falling
On your grave.
And I’m not there today
To say goodbye.
Instead, I’ll buy
Two drinks, one for you
Instead, I’ll raise my glass
and cry.
Instead, I’ll visit that wall
Next summer
And cry.
For Them
For those who died in muddy fields
or pressed on through the jungle
or those that fought up rocky hills
and found eternal slumber
They served, some died
they knew the deal
that blood secures our time
that freedom’s bells will peal
But now we cannot stand alone
apart from one another
we have to help each other up
as sisters and as brothers
A house divided cannot stand
a lesson paid in blood
we’ll have to learn another time
if we betray their trust
For those who served and only wept
instead of being buried
Who wait and wonder if
we forgot why they stood for us
We need to pay them back in coin
that only patriots earn
with unity and loyalty
to the Union that they served
Moral Combat
Watching it all play out
On national television,
All that I could think
Was that we really could do better
In the choosing of our champions
And the resolution of the combat.
In the back of my mind
I thought of Alice, Texas
In the fall of 1948
And the mysterious miracle of Ballot Box 13.
Yet there is quite a difference
Between knowing a bit of history
And actually making accusations
From the Whitehouse bully pulpit.
On this one thing I am certain,
That no matter who wins this battle
The process has weakened their position
And the standing of this nation.
There will be no mandate for action —
Only more cries from the sidelines
That a duly elected person
Cannot possibly be “my president”.
The process tears at our fabric
Reopens the old wounds
In our national psyche
Refusing to allow them to heal.
We should be saddened that the runup
To the 2024 election
Starts in earnest today.