It is Memorial Day
And I have dutifully purchased
Set of flags for my father's
Gravestone. A memorial
My mother has yet to see
In person, for it hurts.
A blow from a bully. A bullet
Taken for a friend.
The march. The endless march.
And they fall. Endless.
The faithful, brave. It hurts.
She dares not believe he's gone,
Cannot stand before the witness
Of a world crumbling about her.
A world once all about her.
The march has ended.
The flag stands.
And she, my mother, cannot go there,
But stays at home
Baking Amish squares.
Dessert of comfort
For those in need;
Her own heart discomforted.
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