Mark I. Kirkmeyer


I found out today
I knew one greatest price to pay
He was lost in the twins
I don’t know, working or charging in
Lost contact for many years, a shame
This morning they read his name
His face appeared in my minds eye
It wouldn’t leave though I try
He was young, naive on the edge
A butterbar fresh from college
Hardening like concrete cure
When I received my transfer
On the DMZ, to busy to think of him
Not a thought, not even a whim
Until this morning I heard his name
Doing his job not thought of fame

Author’s Note: Dedicated to Lt. P, lost in the World Trade Center