Poetry of Kansas Here & Now, There & Then

130. 1942

Standing.

Close enough to feel

the fresh turned gravel

through my thin-soled shoes.

No fake grass to obscure

the reality of that bare hole.

Rifles popped and echoed.

A far away bugle gave us

the saddest of all Amens,

which chilled and chilled.

My father shuddered

and pulled me close.

Embarrassed and ashamed for him,

I watched tear drops leave his eyes

to fall on that ground

which was only beginning to show

its insatiable hunger

for the young men of our town.

– Max Yoho

These poems are by Topekan Max Yoho, a native Kansan, retired machinist, and Kansas author. All were originally published in Felicia, These Fish Are Delicious, Dancing Goat Press, © 2004 by Max Yoho

About these ads

Comments on: "130. 1942" (1)

  1. Rick Nichols said:

    I enjoyed hearing the author read this thought-provoking poem on two occasions recently. It has much to say to all of us.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Tag Cloud

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 418 other followers