The lake called him from uncertain dreams at dawn. Today was the day. He awoke. Frost covered the edges of the windows. Through the clear glass at the center of the pane he saw the snow still blowing hard. Its vehemence contrasted sharply with the warm calm of the bedroom. He kissed his wife as she lay sleeping, petted the cat, then slipped out of bed as quietly as he could. The cat joined him as he put on his slippers, p...

My life fell apart when I was ten -- and that night will stick with me forever. It was mid-summer and Mom and Dad wanted a weekend to themselves. I was spending it with my grandparents -- Dad's parents. We'd had a good time with a quiet day -- just Grandma, Grandpa, and me. That evening, one of their friends, Gene, came by to visit. We were sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea and nibbling on cookies, when Grandma grabbed...

On Ploegsteert memorial in Belgium, no faces show. Only names carved on slabs Along curved walls of the imposing colonnade Impressive, the stone lions that guard. Eleven thousand names of the multi-ranked Casualties of war, who share this dubious banner NO KNOWN GRAVE. Consider these lives snatched into oblivion Ripped out of all existence, Yet, three kilometres north lies Ypres Once flattened by that same war Now risen l...

Sleet hitting the windows,nothing stirring.Drifts of white powder,blanket your door.Your heart heavy,thoughts of what ifs.Close your eyes,quiet so deafening.Wash over you,begging to end the pain.Dreaming of dying,final release and peace.Drifts of new snow,sparkle like so many stars.Blanket your life.

At the age of nine, lying in the children's ward. Rheumatic fever, burning though me. Nuns and Doctors come and go, tending a full ward of eight boys. Across from me lay a new boy, no more than five years old. Sadly for he had survived, his family fire. All day long crying between moans, begging for his mother. Nuns being quiet but still they knew, he would be with his mother tonight. Waking up to chaos, Doctors, Nuns and...

Sun-dried mud on youthful faces. Waiting for the shrill sound of whistles. Rolling thunder, foot by foot. Sending earth tossed to heaven. Drips of crimson foam splash mates, along the trench lines. Orders barked with the shrill whistles. "Over the top boys!" Being met with rat a tat from the bloody Hun guns. O what a grand sight as the Black Watch moved. Once more the youth of Britain fed, the Fields of Flanders. We the p...

The line at the funeral parlor led out the front door, around the side, and down the street for three blocks and was composed primarily of men who had come to pay their respects. The civilian men wore a white shirt, dark jacket, dark pants, and a white name tag that read either First or Last. The military and ex-military wore their uniforms; they honored Shyloh with the same white name tag neatly affixed to cover all the...

As the drums and pipes played Tribal King we stood our ground.  We the fresh and young troops of our King stood and watched the foolish French below.  For today we have been told it shall end here, end today.  The shout goes up and down the line, "Form right."   Our old man paced to the front, proud of his lads.  Stopping here and there to tap a shoulder, a word of courage to his green boys.  For he knew way too many woul...

Lambs As the news from today, Sink into my soul. Sound of Hueys to the west, Bring back memories. Hot August day so long ago. New green lambs, stumble out all of 19. Look at this latest batch. As you spit, Thinking one thought. Lambs for slaught. Returning to task at hand, Clean, oil and reload. As Hueys settle, No time to ask. Take a lamb with you. Store your thoughts trooper, As the Hueys take off. Old lions eyes closed...

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We may not let our heroes fade with timeLest martyrs be erased from honor's scrollWe must make sure the memories stay sublimeOf deeds that still define our nation's soul Collectively we share the warriors' painAnd cradle fallen soldiers of all kinds We soothe the brows of patriots againTo feel their sacrifices in our minds So raise your glasses to the ones who gaveAnd let the poppies bloom upon your chestWe celebrate the...

I live with the knowledge that things will never be the same againThat things can never go back to what they wereTo what we wereOn the coldest of nights, when the chill leaks into my soul I am put in memory of what we were together, and what we hadYes I am sadYes I mournBut to think that you are happy, makes me happyAnd though it is not with me, I remind myself that it is for the bestThe days are hard, the nights harder s...

Cruel World:He was vaguely aware of someone entering the room and the sounds they were making, how they were disturbing the peace he had created for himself, interrupted his little world and penetrated the barrier that he had built to keep people out. "Tom?" the female voice asked, though to him it sounded distant and far away. Go away, God dammit, he thought angrily, just leave me alone. All I want is to be left alone. A...

The sky sat in judgment on a cold spring morning. All the people could be seen staring out of their empty shells, shells that housed warm souls and harbored dark thoughts, translucent in the light of day but opaque at night. If there is one thing I have learned, it is that night masks the deeds of day. It erases evidence and lays false trails for madmen to wander. It creates stories from air and air from words, notes from...

If I should find space in your memoryonce the seconds have drained from my timeI pray I'm remembered just as I wasI hope I'm not placed too highNot keen on leaving a saintly reputeeven saints have sinned in their heartsDon't think the bad or the good of meJust keep them as fat as they areRemember that I was giving--but don't forget that my temper was hotRemember I looked on the bright side--but don't forget that at times...