Lou J. Klaiber
THE DEROS[1] BOYS
Crow sat thinking…
‘We were sons of Vulcan
with glowing eyes
and Eagle screams
gone to a place so desolate
and dark
and very far away.
Water flowing
like hot metal…
trees
… screaming
Boys dying
like Men
far from their graves.
War speaks
with a hollow voice
mud
and distance
and silence staring from quiet eyes.
Boys
tying a tourniquet with their teeth
holding the dying
and the dead
as Men.
They moved on
returning together
and yet alone
and San Francisco hated them
each
and every one.
… but California never mattered
to many going home.
All was lost
and ‘welcomes’ were washed away in the rain.’
Crow slept.
The years fell away.
The storms grew louder
and Crow listened
as Brothers began to fight Brothers
… and everyone agreed
that it had to be so.
Kitski Kaska
came again,
for the last time,
and spoke to Crow.
Said…
‘You have seen enough of the Sun,
The Moon,
and you have opened your arms to the rain.
You have given your share
of the wisdom of Crow Spirit.
Fly now!
to the silent Moon
with old soldier wings!
… Fly on!’
… and so it ends.
©Copyright October 20, 2004 by Lou J. Klaiber