Nancy L. Meek

IT’S HARD COUNTING THE COST

Awarded: January 10, 2010It’s hard to list the things he’ll miss,
his mother’s hugs, his girlfriend’s kiss
his daddy’s arm across his back
glad he’s home from Nam… Iraq;
mountains glistening from the snow;
valleys greening far below;
tossing footballs to his son,
I’m sure he’d do, if he had one;
sandy beaches; salty air;
quiet talks; someone who’d care;
going boating; hiking; fishing;
biking; dreaming; hoping; wishing;
living; breathing; singing; eating.
The list goes on, but tis defeating,
for he is dead and six feet under,
missing not the rolling thunder;
black clouds forming overhead;
townsfolk praying o’er their dead;
his family, numb, red-eyed, weeping,
told by all, “He’s merely sleeping”
as here I sit and watch more die
then count the cost until I cry.