Wrinkled by age, he reached in;
for a pair of clean black socks-
On the way out, he found yesterday,
as though memory alone, could turn
back the clock-

Yells from voices he recalled;
faces from that day poured in-
Thunder blasted from clear blue skies-
as the heavy iron ripped like tin

Cloud after cloud darkened the heavens;
with swarming beasts of doom-
Pinned by surprise; Many died;
on this day of island gloom

He felt a coldness rush through his bones;
as chilling as he had before-
Madness and chaos way beyond;
then anger, pressed through the door

While his nimble fingers slid on the socks;
his mind captured photos stilled-
Burning war ships; Dying men;
Watery battlegrounds and fates were sealed

Looking in the mirror, he straightened his tie;
dark colors for the occasion at hand-
Handwritten eulogy; Surreal and humbling;
he’d never forget this man

Sniffles and tears from loved ones dear;
they knew not this warrior brave-
For he was the soldier, from long ago,
that pulled him from his salty sure grave

While Taps was played; and Old Glory was folded;
he saluted his friend once more-
Loosened his tie, while he wiped from his eye;
the tears and memories of war

© Lisa Hilbers
02/25/06