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Click hereDear Daddy last night I
watched Saving Private Ryan.
I saw your young man's face,
the fear in trembling fingers,
numb movement forward,
carrying bandages, not a gun.
I can't imagine you crashing
onto Omaha Beach, bobbing
over waves bloody with men
like you, floating, sinking.
Maybe once they knew
how to do the lindy hop.
Maybe once they held
the seeds of daughters
waiting to hear stories,
Damon Runyun read
in a steady goodnight voice
that dipped and nodded,
beckoning sleep.
Do their grandchildren remember them?
A fading face,
a dusty purple heart,
and not a word against
the crawling factory years,
days sung to morning clink,
spoon on coffee mug, and then
goodbye sweetheart, goodbye.
Not a word of friendship
blasted by a single shell,
the scrape of sandy tears,
numb movement forward,
and life beyond 1945
a cakewalk by comparison.
Dreaming.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,000 poems.
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Excellent juxtaposition of images — the civilian's peace and the soldier's war.
As if he had a choice. Beautiful tribute to strength and resolve, Ange.
...I totally agree. To my mind, "crawling factory years" is exceptional imagery!
Thank you, Angeline.
These two sets of lines floor me. The line break before
"goodbye sweetheart"; swerving a double purpose?
"and not a word against
the crawling factory years,
days sung to morning clink,
spoon on coffee mug, and then
goodbye sweetheart, goodbye."
us of the word "cakewalk" bringing to mind the 50's
"and life beyond 1945
a cakewalk by comparison.
Dreaming."
so much good here, these being the two that caught my eye.