I wrote two poems for Pioneers and Soldiers, and will probably write more, but this is the one I’m publishing in Ring Ring Poetry. The other poem was full of references to specific graves, the surrounding sounds and sights, but ultimately this is the poem I felt like was more ready and was more right.
A year and a half ago, my last remaining grandparent died, and this past autumn, a very close friend of mine passed away very unexpectedly, very young. It has made me very aware of mortality, very conscious of the failings of memory, of the shortness of humanity in the history of the universe, how quickly we disappear from that human history, and how lucky we are to just be here.
from today’s poem, available at 612 223-POEM:
We are each of us guttering flames, young tomatoes,
electrical circuits worn in one another’s minds.
We are lucky chances, we are won lotteries already,
to have made it this long, this far.