Don’t send officers to my door;
don’t say you regret to inform me.
I don’t want a 21-gun salute
or taps played on a trumpet
or a triangle-folded flag.
I don’t want to visit a white cross
and stare at the ground
where an empty casket encases
a single set of dog tags.
I don’t want the words,
Remains were not recoverable
to represent a boy
who loved to make mud pies
and wrestle with his sisters
and climb apple trees
and pick wildflowers for my table.
I asked you to keep him safe,
and though you made no promises,
I expected to welcome him back
with open arms—and now my arms
will never feel his muscled weight;
my heart alone must carry the stone.
Don’t tell me time heals all wounds.
ARVILLA FEE lives in Dayton, Ohio, teaches English for Clark State College, and is the managing editor for the San Antonio Review. She has published poetry, photography, and short stories in numerous presses, including Calliope, North of Oxford, Rat’s Ass Review, Mudlark, Remington Review, and many others. Her poetry books, The Human Side and This is Life, are available on Amazon. Her third book, Mosaic: A Million Little Pieces is due to be released this December. Arvilla loves writing, photography and traveling and never leaves home without a snack and water (just in case of an apocalypse). Arvilla’s favorite quote in the whole word is: “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” ~ Henry David Thoreau. To learn more, visit her website: https://soulpoetry7.com/
