To War

You must go, I know, son,
but your room will remain the same,
with clean, cool sheets and Granny's
comfy rag quilt ready for your return.

And the Connecticut, without you fishing there,
will not run the same, in spring,
rushing home to the sea,
but the tomatoes in autumn will paint
themselves shamelessly to lure you back.

And, never forget, Mary is waiting.

But, if I should be gone before your return,
because of this cursed little bird of a heart
that wants to flutter, not fly,
I tell you now that I,
and your country are proud of you.

Kill if you must, but never lust for it.

Come to the elm where I hung the swing for you.
That's where my ashes will be buried.
Swing with me again in memory,
swing high with prayers for peace
and thanks for life.

^

Biography

Del Corey grew up in Massachusetts. He served three years as a paratrooper. He earned BA and MA degrees from Michigan State University, then taught English for 36 years, 30 of them at Macomb Community College near Detroit. He has had hundreds of poems published, and has written five books of poetry.