Now I see my father at fifteen,
gangly in T-shirt and khakis.
On the back stoop is a galvanized
bucket of crushed Camels.
Four years later, he will join the Army
the Monday after Pearl Harbor.
They made him a ball turret gunner,
twin fifties, floor full of hot brass.
He speaks to me with string
and two tin cans. "Tell them I
did my duty," he buzzes, " I did not
mean to bring the war home."
I watched him live long enough
to lose his mind. In the burnished
glaze of spit- shine and boot-black,
you can almost see your reflection.
For God and Country
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- Posts: 2154
- Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Re: For God and Country
Just outstanding, Kenneth
Nothing to offer workshop-wise - no need I can see
I do hope to revisit to highlight why this is on my short list
Thanks, for posting this potent & poignant Kenneth poem
Michael (MV)
Nothing to offer workshop-wise - no need I can see
I do hope to revisit to highlight why this is on my short list
Thanks, for posting this potent & poignant Kenneth poem
Michael (MV)
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- Posts: 2688
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: For God and Country
Excellent piece, Ken. Great choice of details.
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- Posts: 1619
- Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
Re: For God and Country
Much appreciated guys
Re: For God and Country
Yes, a sure nomination. The details make this poem great.