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