Dear friends,
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!Let’s not forget this day in history when the U.S. was forced to enter World War II. My father could have died there, young. He was on the battleship the USS Arizona just two years before the attack. Luckily, he transferred to submarines. More than a thousand men were not so lucky. My father had known most of them.
Here is something I wrote following a visit to Pearl Harbor. The memorial is a solemn, impressive place.
USS Arizona Memorial Bombs smoke fire sirens raid The harbor watchman stares with barnacle eyes. Watch your step, lap lap of healing waves. “Chip! Scott! This is like a church, a wake.” So the busload of tourists descends upon the site. Bombs smoke fire sirens raid Crisp white starch, crewcut sailor salutes the brave where number three turret below the surfaces lies. Watch your step, lap lap of healing waves. So much rust, there’s so much rust the seas have made how can that rainbow of oil from the engine rise? Bombs smoke fire sirens raid My heart stands at attention, someone reeks of Jean Nate while families shoot their photos and eat their fries. Watch your step, lap lap of healing waves. Oh, Hurricane Pearl, fling the hull from the base— honor the dead with a burial at sea, high tide. Bombs smoke fire sirens raid watch your step, lap lap of healing waves. ––Susan Zenker photo from Pixabay