Nancy L. Meek


They gave his widow his bloody beret
which, through hot tears, she locked away
beside his dog tags fingered at length,
as she sat and prayed for inner strength
to go the distance ‘til next they meet
someday on Heaven’s golden street,
where love awaits devoid of bounds
gratefully far from blood-soaked grounds,
where men beget more wars than not
and their widows wait and pray a lot.