While on Vacation

The river isn't bloody anymore,
and silence reigns across the tattered land.
A  family visits now from distant shores;
its children frolic in the muddy sand.

Soon, drifting currents bear an empty shoe
as old soldiers rest, shield babies from the sun.
Can they let go? At last, at last they do...
Until all is done, all things come undone.

Mothers left moan songs of grief. Soldiers leave
footprints in their hearts and homes. Slow time moves
on. Still men, they're children once again, seized,
relieved, by rivers clean and flowing.

There's a quiet edge at the end of this place,
to walk, to hope, a chance to find release.

                         Linda Buskey LeBlanc