There was bravery for a dubious cause,
And, strife running above the laws,
All ending not in a planned way.
But who will speak and what to say?
Blood soaked bandages of gauze.
No one really wanted war,
But called out for the military corps,
And, uncertain was the hope,
As all went down the slippery slope,
To appear appalled by the gore.
Why should youth go to the sea,
To be with denizens who want to flee?
Some thinking here had a gasp,
A place not named on the map,
Unworthy of a bent knee.
From the ash may arise new hope,
‘Tho with blindness, I do grope,
To find the ground ‘neath shifting tide,
Where wise glimmerings may reside,
A true loveliness with whom I can elope.
Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.