he whispers amen

thank you he whispers
like an amen
the broad smile on his face
I’ve seen somewhere before
his bright marbled eyes map
world destinations traveled decades ago
both light and dark
those hands, trembling and warm
once gripped killing machines
with cool unshakable confidence
back then

they wore their brand of patriotism
like a second skin
back then

there was no doubting
now there is
and today he whispers
thank you and tips his baseball cap
to my young son
who has just held the door
for the elderly gentleman
wearing the navy blue cap with the meticulous insignia
that reads WWII, US P-51 Mustang



previously published, I have no fighter plane art

9 thoughts on “he whispers amen

  1. Really wonderful poem….so very few of our WWII generation still living — coined the greatest generation (I think…) in their commitment and sacrifice. Funny, I could never get my dad to talk about his experiences. This is a very poignant piece. You should report on November 11.


    • This idea came to me a few weeks ago while exiting Barnes and Noble.
      Do you know where your dad was stationed? I can understand enlistees not wanting to talk about their experiences.
      I think I’ve told you my dad was an FBI agent. He worked many mafia cases in NYC back in the day. For many years, he came home and never talked about his work. I never realized the perils he faced until – much, much later.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Not sure where he was – he was working on planes, their electronics etc…did they have electronics then? He was where active planes went in and out.
        I’d forgotten about your dad. They were/are an amazing generation of men with so many responsibilities.


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