Wood Smoke and Old Grapes

Joe

The hint of wood smoke

And old grapes

Returns this time of year

As Memorial Day draws near

Setting off remembrances

Like fireflies or sparklers

In my head

Gentle soul of a man I once knew

Who enjoyed his cigarettes

And Bohemian style brew

Walks out of darkness

Smiles

Cracks a joke

Then disappears

Laughter still ringing in my ears

Sitting beside the old stove

Upon the walls

A treasure trove

Collected cans

Tigers pennant

Someone we all know
An average joe

Sits at the bar

Sips his beer

Tips his cap

As you come near

Then waits to tell you

Of that fateful year

When he left home

For the battlefield

Even if he spent it

Upon the quartermaster's chair.

And when he passed

I was there the day

He breathed his last

Autumn blush

On treeless leaves

Silent hush

A whirling breeze

Carried his soul aloft

To the sound of rifle fire

Folded flag

A wooden cross

Forever now with his Savior

Leaving behind

A silent tomb

Scar closed wound

In a garden of stone

With his brethren lost

But not forgotten

Of the cost

Of freedoms won

Yeah, we all know

A man named Joe

Here, or there

Still a Vet

And you can bet

He'll go again

If his country needs him to.

Amen

D.W. Wittler 17’