burnt to ashes
the future they shared
by the waterhole
I’m back at Roslyn to help out with the farm,
starting the holidays early, not that I mind.
Right now I’m sitting in Frank’s favourite spot
on that hollow log by the creek.
You know the place where the three of us
caught the eels and cooked them up last Easter.
They’re calling Frank a hero.
His name’s on a plaque in the hall.
Mum’s put his shiny medal on the kitchen dresser.
She touches it every time she walks past.
There’s a picture of him in his uniform beside it,
smiling like he always did.
Dad said if you’re back by Christmas he’ll kill a calf.
It’d make a nice change from his mutton stew.
Mum hasn’t been doing much cooking lately.
If you’re not back, I’ll be over there in April.
Can’t wait to climb a pyramid.
thrift shop memorabilia
vintage post cards
just fifty cents
for a soldier’s untold story