Mark I. Kirkmeyer

SILENT AIRPORT

Footsteps echo back
Normal for midnight
But light shines through large observation windows
Aircraft parked at terminal
Cold and Silent

I have my duty
No time to think
Lots of time to think

A continent away it started
Fanatics acting not of anger
“Inshalla”

They are not all that way
Wonder about my friends from the Gulf
How do they feel?
Sorrow, anger; not joy

Step in the command center
It’s on the news.
The twin sisters have fallen;
The man sliced open

Mind running
Thinking of numbers,
Calculations:
Why do I do this?
Training?
Estimating body count
Must return to duty
Don’t think
A monster
Thinking of numbers
Not of people
maybe I’ve seen to much
What will happen when the job is done?
Tears overwhelming as I relax:
How many losses?
Overwhelming.

©Copyright September 13, 2001 by Mark I. Kirkmeyer

BARNEY FIFE GUARDS THE AIRPORT

They marched in out of step
looking awesomely inept
They look sloppy and overweight
ogling women looking for a date
They make you feel good.
They would on report if they were mine
Uniforms sloppily worn, boots need a shine.
Magazine pouches and wells empty
ready to fight for our safety
They make you feel good
They are there to look good
That is easily understood
Anyone with a trained eye
will wonder exactly why
They make you feel good.

Author’s Note: This poem was written following 9-11 as an incitement of the state of unpreparedness of a particular National Guard Unit who were expected to guard a local airport.