Billy F. Dial, Jr


Seven thousand miles apart, a terrible place to be,
waiting for the man she loves, to return from
across the seas. Sitting, waiting, wondering,
the worried thoughts she’s been keeping
never knowing what is going on, when he is awake
or sleeping? Wondering if he is cold and tired
or if he is somewhere safe, clutching a picture
taken last year, just for a glimpse of his face.
Hoping and praying he’ll come home to her,
like so many times before, she envisions him walking
up their drive, as she stands waiting for him at the door.
“He will come back”, is what she says, as she watches
the sun begin to set, each evening she repeats this
process, but he hasn’t returned to her yet. Crying
herself to sleep each night, trying so hard to be strong,
because he’s a Marine and it’s his job, but this time he’s
been gone too long. “Come home to me”, she whispers
softly, as the tears stream down her face, “come home to
me my love, from that far and desolate place”.