I must go

by Marilou Suchar
May 16, 2015

The ocean is calling to my heart,
I must go
To walk the shore, and in me store
The smell, the feel, the love.

The ocean beckons me, some, now
And see,
See the waves, the shells, feel the warm sand
And maybe just be. Come hold my hand.

The ocean cries – the longing, the yearning
I must return
To the seagulls cry
To the glistening waves
To the wind in my face
To the sound

I must go. The ocean calls me.

Contrails

by the late Milt Huntington
Augusta

Jet planes streaking through the sky
Leave their contrails there to die.
We who watch them from below
Can only wonder where they go.

We hear their disappearing sound
As it echoes dimly to the ground.
From west to east and east to west
They travel headlong to their nest.

Birds of silver, birds of white
Travel swiftly day and night.
Like an arrow through the blue
They fly away from me and you.

We can only watch and say:
“They’ll be back another day.”
When they land, we’ll be right here
To see the contrails reappear.

Impressions of the old farm

by Marilou Suchar
November 9, 2015

The farm was old –
I stood, and mused
So many families
Was well used.

The barn was gone
So long ago
Just rocks remained
Of the further wall.

Small outer building
On the hill
Useless now
But stands there still.

Stumps were showing
Where once trees stood
Some were sold
Some burnt for wood.

The rock walls stand
Where fields were made
Marsh water glistened
In the glade.

It was built in 1880
For a farmer’s home
And his sweet
Young lady.

Still it stood
The test of time
One more family
This one mine.

She Can’t Remember
(to Katherine)

by Gary Haskell

She reaches out to me
with that same, sweet smile
Takes my hand and says, “It’s been a while.”
Though there’s a lot of pain.
I know she’s not to blame.
She can’t remember.

She’s been changing
for a couple of years.
We’ve watched her laughter
turn to tears.
As she stands in front of me,
It’s plain to see.
She can’t remember.

No, she can’t recall the nights,
we held each other tight,
as our bodies melded into one,
until we made another one.
She can’t remember.

We have to leave her here.
They’ve made it clear,
their care is best,
she needs the rest.
As we leave, we pray,
That someday,
She may, remember.

I am a veteran

by Gary L. Haskell

I am a veteran,
let me tell you what that means to me.
It means I made sacrifices,
to keep my country free.

It means I did many things,
I really did not want to do.
But, when I was given orders,
I would follow through.

It means I spent many nights
away from those who I love.
Let me live to see them once again
was my prayer to God above.

Yes, I made sacrifices,
but mine were very small.
When compared to the thousands,
who sacrificed their all.

It means I joined a fraternity
that existed for many years.
Truly a brotherhood,
of blood, sweat and tears.

I am a veteran
for that I take great pride.
some for things I did, but much more
of the heroes who have died.

Protecting this way of life.
where choices can be made.
We kept this the land of the free,
and we made it the home of the brave.

I AM A VETERAN!