Jo

15

Summer of Goodbye

Crickets joined in chorus,
the chorus of good-bye,
the chorus of sorrow,
the chorus of why.

Dappled gelding hoof beats,
creaking caisson wheels,
followed by gentle clacking
of mourners’ heels.

Snare drum gave his signal,
bugle wept his song,
the twenty-one gun salute cracked
a tiding into clear blue open sky.

Historic ballad interrupted—modern jets arced skyward-
screeching giant turbines,
flashing silver metallic tails stretched long.

A prayer recited in unison,
final words—sung together—
a tribute for one;
a love song shared—
breathing quiet breaths
on wind tossed grass.