Poems Again

Every now and then, I need to commit poetry.  You don't have to read it, but I have to write it.

Strength
C.K. Armistead 6/14/13
As the days wear on
And things are still broken
The wear and tear on
Some hearts still unspoken

Some try to be strong
They hold the grief at bay
But after so long
It needs the light of day.

What can I be, then
For them to rely on?
I find this one a pen
Give the other a shoulder
to cry on.

It's my privilege to be
In a place where I can provide
Small things for them to see
It's going to be all right.

Some days it has been hard
Not to cry with them
Over baby pictures found in the yard
Or the loss of a friend.

 So very difficult not to cry
With a little girl and her mother
She lost her library books at school
But she got out alive .

Or the older man who
Lost 45 years worth of memories
In one afternoon
But worried about his library books.

All I can do is help where I can
Make fines go away
Maybe hold their hand
And always, I find that I say
"But we are SO glad that YOU'RE still here."

As long as we're alive
There's hope.
It will take time.
But we are strong, we can cope.
We will rebuild our town,
And our hearts
Together.



The Broken Pieces

C.K. Armistead 6/14/13

Most of town
Looks just fine.
Where there was just debris,
It has been picked up
Windows are being washed
Damaged cars replaced.
There are still
Whole neighborhoods of grief.
Tumbled masses of what was left
Of several families' memories.
Those are beginning to be cleared as well
Trucks are moving constantly
All through town.
Taking the broken pieces
Away so we can be healed.
Still there is at least one room
I know of
Full of battered memories.
Boxes of them.
Faces I don't know
Look out from muddied
Photographs
Hoping to see
Their loved ones again.
Kind hands are coming
To clean the muddied faces
And put them online
So those loved ones
Can claim them.
There are also scars
Less visible to the eye.
Broken pieces of our hearts
That cause us to cry
For no visible reason.
Even if our own homes are whole,
Many of us lost
Places dear to us.
Homes of friends,
The pub,
Even the hospital we relied on.
Gone.
We hurt for our friends
And neighbors
Some moved away
At least until houses are rebuilt.
And I had the sad task
Of deleting the library record
Of a sweet man
Who died on May 20th.
One more broken piece
Jabbing at my heart.