Dickie, Young and Brave

 

When you were very young
in the beginning of your days,
untested and untasted,
you came upon a place that felt like home--
snowy fields and mud
and rivers curled like ribbons
and forests straight as sentinels.
This might have been a place you hunted deer
or pheasant with your dog.
But hunting now is man-to-man.

And there you came
along with others young and brave.
And there you crawled along the frozen land
and dug a hole to watch the night
and those who crept upon it.
And there you cupped your hands around the flickering flame of freedom.

Your hands held marbles, once
and stroked your mother’s curly hair
and turned the pages of your books
and tickled puppies’ velvet ears.

You wore a cross around your neck,
once whole, now shattered at its base.
And bled a stream of dreams
and all you loved
and hoped to love
into the soil, now sanctified
and forever yours.

And there you rest,
tended by a stalwart man
who understands the price of love.

And there you talk to me
a niece you never met but always knew.

You bought my father’s safety with your blood
and made it possible for me to be.
You watch me now
and all I do
and all I love
and you are proud, I know
because like you, I am a peaceful warrior too.

And I will not forget.

Your niece,
Barbara Monnot Joosse
March 10, 2017