Family and Friends

Lost Letters

Clearing my basement,
 I discover Claude’s letter.  


He enlisted to fly.



“…you rave about the Australian women,


they must be unreal. I can hardly wait to go there.”


I smile. 



“…afraid I’m no longer 
a virgin.

Had a great time
 and paid for it.  
Didn’t  study.  


Blew the navigation quiz.”



Over beers, we'd spoken of girls,


laughed as college boys 
with lives ahead.



“See you for sure at Christmas 
around the 21st.”



Then, my unread response, 
sadly returned and kept.


The real price of war. 

* Claude Dennison and I became friends while studying at Seattle University.  Following graduation, he enlisted in the Naval Air while I served aboard the USS McMorris (DE-1036).  We kept in communication.   I was coming off active duty and he was planning leave in 1968.  We planned to grab a Christmas drink and relive old times.  He was killed when his plane crashed.   

Sandbox 

As children, we traipsed the woods,

careened the nettled bluff 

to the beach at Cherry Point.

We'd snare starfish, dodge 
jellyfish…

and wade tidepools.


Sand sifted through
 our toes,  

sandfleas nipped ankles

while
 we rested on the logs.


Older cousin
 John conned

us into
 smoking driftwood. 



In other times, our parents
 took us to Colman Park


to play in the sandboxes. We’d argue.


Throw sand trying to bury each

other 
until mom scolded us to stop.



Now, sons and daughters plough 
Iraq desert

and Afghan hills where sun and sand seeps 

their bones and bodies.