poetry Short Stories Uncategorized

rosie the riveter

he is off fighting in the war
on the other side of the world
as i wait at home
growing my victory garden

letters and postcards tied in ribbons
as the record player weeps
p.s. i love you

my wringing hands plead to mars for his safe return
in the knowing hope chests so easily
convert to coffins

his cause is the same my father’s was

a battle often lost

and here i am again
buying war bonds

the little girl in mary janes
pig tails sad brown eyes
and a sun dress

watching daddy die too soon

from too many pills too much bottled poison and black
cigarette in bed

so sure i can save

this one

from his invading army

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