The Death Clock

Standing at a too young man’s graveside.
A cold North Dakota November wind
blew snow up my uniform pants leg.

As the honor guard leader called
“Ready, aim, fire,”
to signal the gun salute,
I paused to reflect how John
and I talked while working on his plane
the day before yesterday
He had been happy and
looking forward to Christmas
with his two-year-old daughter.

I had squandered chances
to tell him how great a man
he had become, and how being a
good father and husband
had made him into more
than he ever could have become alone.

I learned that day,
standing on a cold hill
in a North Dakota snowstorm
that the promise of tomorrow
is but an illusion.
Do what needs to be done today.
Time keeps ticking
and The Death Clock’s alarm
is set to ring
at a different time for everyone.

Standing at a too young man’s graveside.
A cold North Dakota November wind
blew snow up my uniform pants leg.

________________________________

This first appeared in The Havok Journal on December 18, 2024.

Lou Marin, a Christian grateful for Jesus’ gift to him, was born and raised in the western hills of Maine, then spent 20 plus years wandering the country and world in the United States Air Force. Maine Department of American Legion’s Historian, he is a photographer and stringer for The Maine Trust for Local News, published poet and short story writer who pens faith based devotionals. He lives in Rumford, Maine. He is author of an anthology of poems based upon his military career entitled “Dimly Seen Through The Mists,” and a book of faith based poems entitled “My Lighthouse In Troubled Times,” available through Pen It! Publications.

Lou can be reached at mbsphotog@yahoo.com or his Facebook Page.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.