Death of a Young Soldier

Death of a Young Soldier

Bradley Espinoza, with your death I came to
know you, think about you and your family today.
You served in Iraq with my son-in-law. It was
your third tour of duty there, his too. Iraqi Freedom.
You shared the same unit, same rotation.
Twenty-six- years old, with wife and two children,
army for seven years, right out of high school.
So young. Too young to die. Your wife is army too.
Who will care for the children? You were returning
home next month. You and everyone else in your
unit. Families were making plans. Counting days.
You had a dangerous job, bomb disposal specialist,
and you did it well until last weekend when enemy
forces attacked your vehicle with a bomb. You
did not survive. Today your mother is in Delaware
bringing your body home. You will be home before
the rest of your unit. I don't know you, but am sad.

When They Found Her

When They Found Her - #1

When they found her she was counting flower petals
one, two, three, fifteen, thirty, sixty-two, more
and she would not be disturbed. People spoke to
her, shook her, tried to entice her to look at them,
but she would not stop counting long enough to
look. She was wearing a sundress, her hair ong and
flowing, and both sundress and hair blew in the wind.



When They Found Her - #2

When they found her late at night, she was alone on the
wooden park bench, blank expression on her face. She
sat motionless, grasped the handle of her well-worn
suitcase that shared the bench. And when authorities
discovered her, asked her to open her bag, she didn't resist.
She had nothing to hide, little to display.The contents are
as mundane as her life. One pair of jeans, two blouses,
two sweaters, underwear, an extra pair of shoes, colorful
socks, warm jacket, a teapot and different bags of exotic
teas, folder full of poetry written by hand, two pens, an
address book, a book of stamps, a flashlight, and a
beautiful china cup carefully wrapped in a red silk cloth
so it would not break, undoubtedly for her tea.

Little Gecko

Little Gecko

Little Gecko, why did you choose
to make our bathroom your home?
Small, innocent, so trusting, my
bare feet could easily squish you
if I walked in the dark and didn't see
you on the floor. You are barely visible
in your chosen spot, blending in with
your surroundings. I truly would be
heartsick if I caused you injury or,
worse, death.

One time you surprised me, ventured into
the hallway outside your usual domain.
Don't you know this is dangerous?
I was glad that I looked down, saw you.
I think while I am here I will be compelled
to look out for you constantly, as I know
you will not watch out for me. I want
you to have a long life, grow big, easier
to see, my dear little friend.

Rain

Rain - 1

Childhood days of gentle summer rain
walks outside barefoot, grass spongey,
puddle splashes, jumps over sidewalk
worms, no umbrella needed, the rain is
warm, let's chase each other, arms
outstretched toward the rainbow.

Rain - 2

Pounding rain, relentless torrent,
wind whips, raindrops are weapons,
sharp, driving, horizontal arrows,
cannot see outside, all is dark,
lights are out now, sirens blare,
head downstairs with flashlight
and radio to wait it out, hope
and pray it will be as it has been
in the past, nothing, not something.
Please let the rain end.

Cold

Cold

Cold sneers
cuts through to the bone
heavy jacket doesn't help
skin burns taut

Cold laughs
pierces through layers
dismisses scarfs, caps,
and mittens. They are nothing

Cold kills
breaks down resistance
takes away feeling, without
notice, silent, still forever.

Nothing to Declare

Nothing to Declare

I bought nothing during the Danube
River cruise or visits to other cities
in Germany. There were few opportunities to
shop, and when they appeared, I had no
strong desire for the items available
or I knew I could find the same thing at home
or they were made in China or sold
just for tourists or I thought I would find
something I liked better later. In Eastern
Europe it was too complex to deal with
the money or if I figured out the price it
was too expensive when I didn't love the
item that momentarily attracted me.
I wanted one souvenir, yearned to have
something special to take
home. I never found that thing, so I came
home from three weeks in Europe with
wonderful pictures and special memories,
but not one thing to declare.

Dirty Dishes

Dirty Dishes


One side of the sink is filled with dirty
dishes which accumulate day after day.
Each morning I arrive, hope the dishes
will have been washed and put away

but it doesn't happen. In the following
days the other side of the sink begins to
fill up with dirty dishes. I ask her why
she does not use her dishwasher, and

she said it doesn't get her dishes clean.
Each day after the children finish breakfast
I see to it that the dishes used are carried
to the sink, increasing the pile of dishes.

Every day before we leave for school I try
to have him help me pick a few things up
from the floor so they can come home to a
more orderly home. I tell him he should

be a good example for his sister, and he
listens. Today when I arrived I
noticed the dishes were washed, drying
on a rack, and that was a good thing.

One step at a time. One day at a time.
Baby steps forward. Then back again.
More dirty dishes will fill the sink.
I wish it weren't so.

Most Don't Care

Most Don't Care

Most don't care or
wait for others to speak
or to do something.

Most are afraid to stand up
in a crowd of people,
instead keep distant,

wish difficulties away,
talk about the weather,
or the price of gasoline.

Some wring hands, oh
dear, easier not to face
conflict, make a decision.

Let someone else speak,
determine right, someone
will. One brave soul or four,

but until then, even
perhaps after, they don't
let others know their thoughts

prefer to appear neutral rather than
to expose their position. Most
fade into the background,

if not seen no one will know,
will not expect. They will walk
the fence to see which way

the wind blows, go in that
direction, follow the crowd
in silence, smile, and wave.

Fear of Cats

Fear of Cats

My mother was terrified of cats.
When she visited an older woman
in our neighborhood at night, and
it was time for her to walk home
she would telephone me and I
walk across the street to
walked home with her to protect
her in case she encountered a cat.
I really wish now I knew why she
was deathly afraid of cats, why
she screamed when she saw
one. I don't know what she thought
they would do. Her fear was intense.
there were two cats I knew who
terrified me as well. One lived with
a family I babysat for. The cat,
a big one with penetrating eyes,
would sit across the room and
stare at me. Its eyes would follow
me wherever I went. It seemed
threatening to me, and I wished it
would just leave me alone. I could
hardly wait until the woman and
man got home. Then one time
when I lived with a crazy roommate
and was afraid one night I went
to sleep at the apartment of a friend
because I wanted to be safe.
She had a cat. I slept on the couch,
and all night this catannoyed me.
It sat on top ofthe couch, waved its
tail in my face. I had dreams of
suffication. If I turned on my side,
it would put its head in my
face, breathe on me. One time
it pounced right onto my stomach.
I could not sleep, and I wished I had
stayed in my apartment with the
crazy roommate there, as it
couldn't have been any worse
than enduring a night with this
cat. On top of it all, it made
me sneeze. At this point in
my life I am not afraid of cats.
I can look at them and even
find some of them beautiful,
but they still make me sneeze.

Things to Throw Back

Things to Throw Back

Angry words, failures real or imagined,
broken promises, broken dreams,
worries, self condemnation, bitterness,
sadness about what might have been,
disillusionments, sadness, fear
of tomorrow and the next day
and the day after that, negatives,
doubts, anguish, blame, all
of these things I throw back.

Decorating the Tree

Decorating the Tree

My mother was in charge of most
of decorating the Christmas tree,
except my dad was in charge of
Christmas lights, both putting
on and taking off. It was a
thankless chore for him, as my
mother supervised, and though
he accomplished it she complained
about how it was done, lights too close,
blank spaces. I was glad I only had to
hang ornaments, didn't do tinsel either,
nor put the star on top which
sometimes tipped this way or that.
Harsh words were exchanged on
Christmas tree days, but by the time it
was up and beautifully decorated these
words were forgotten and we all enjoyed
the tree, especially at night when we sat
with all other living room lights out,
just enjoying the lights on the tree and
the shadows that danced on living room
wall when cars went by on the street.
And we would sing Christmas carols
in the December dark.