Memorial Day
By Joe Zaccardi
There’s so much in the sky:
gods of course, angry fathers,
magicians, nymphs,
and a cat scratching white
claw marks across it all,
courtesy of the Blue Angels.
The noise. The racket.
Banging, clattering,
everyone in the mood
to remodel, repair, replace
an old screen door, re-cane a chair.
And it isn’t even summer,
yet smoke from barbecues
carries the smells of charred steaks
and drumsticks. Some people,
children? They all look so small
from my perch of a house,
are flying kites, if only
they’d get out of the way.
Wind hushes this day, reminds
me of past battles; the waving
arms of those below seeking
rescue. Today a day of memory.
Darkness will cover tomorrow.
Tomorrow is the invisible
silence of air.
Joe Zaccardi’s sixth book of poems, Songbirds of the Nine Rivers, was published by Sixteen Rivers Press.
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