Dixie Cup Memorial

How small it is

this bottom of the Dixie cup

looking skyward

holding high the torch

the unemployment check

of another kind

Held aloft with no regrets

Half full

Half empty

All the same

Someone had to shoulder the orders

Now in desert camo-dress

my hand holds forth

watching fingers pass over

some manicured

with pennies

some scabbed and scared

with singles

even children's innocent fingers

dropping their nickels and dimes

Many have acknowledged this

My back-home identity

My calling card

My shingle

My name plate

The mind huddles close now

few copper and silver

no blankets of green

no ingots of gold

A note floats downward

swathing reality

Thank you for your service

Would you like a job?

What are your skills?

Can you relocate?

Sure

I say

my eyes upon my severed legs

each knee protruding

solitary

save the Purple Heart pinned securely

Just let me gather today's windfall

2 pennies

1 nickel

3 quarters

1 subway token

Relocating again

Travel

Enough to get me there

Pocketing the Dixie cup

my knuckles pull forward

surging my mover's dolly

transporting Faith's hidden hope

Ahead

looking back

my benefactor strides onward

his missing arm

yet another lost appendage of honor

his smile a projection of comradery

Not far he says

Not far