Nancy L. Meek


Long, hot and hard,
with stories to tell,
the battles were over,
departing that hell,
remembered forever,
threads poking through
a hole in his heart,
cruel death in review,
snippets of memories,
scenes he won’t share
even years down the road
when no one is there
but the Jack in his bottle
and the Colt in his hand
and the buddies he left
in that foreign land
he humped every day
long, hot and hard
till they found him one day
sprawled in his yard
eyes staring upward
so vacant and still
and a hole in his heart
that nothing could fill.