Soldier Home For Christmas

Dear John,


The President announced the troops come home from Iraq. I wonder, will you come off the plane last? Will you be wearing your ACU (the service uniform holds that dusty smell of charcoal) when you ship home? Our son will want to keep that jacket with the letters of your name on the chest. I know it is common enough and we might be able to buy one with SMITH on it at the army surplus, but he will want yours.

In your last letter you wrote about how every night the image of Smith Park’s oak trees and ivy pathways kept your mind green. The sounds of leaves touching in the wind are like karaoke vocalizing the lyrics we listened to on that oldies station. It is December now, they will play Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas on the car radio. I sing along loud and joyful. I keep putting antifreeze into the radiator just as you told me, but the Jeep is running cold.

Things here at home will be strange when you return. I did not have the heart to tell you in my letters that our park is gone.  The city redeveloped the area into something commercial. What remains is a little triangle between busy streets in the neighborhood. They let the grass turn brown. The sign remains steadfast, as I have waited for you my love. It is in front of the graveyard where I hope to finally put you to rest, we will all be together. War has been a troubling enemy I could not touch or understand but knowing it is over will make us start to heal.

Merry Christmas to All With Love,




Copyright © Caroline Gerardo 2011

Unsent Letter

You + Me Aspen Tree

   I wanted to tell you a list of things. Call this a love letter of sorts. I can't send it but I can write it as flash fiction, not poetry. This is a casual note you might find in your pocket.

   The tests are back on the roof tiles. There is no lead, my design plan for rain gutters to gather enough water for a garden, sun shower and the whole budget is less than $2100 in materials. Adding water that is previously untapped and free feels independent, that is how I would describe it to you in a bouncing up and down Charlie Brown Christmas dance.

   I keep you in my prayers now when rain showers seem to cross my path. This incredible rainbow popped this afternoon. I asked Him to make you my Superman, the strong man who leads.

   Four of the poems and paintings I made for you of your ranch are complete. They are missing the magic. The images give a glimpse of the wonder.

   I regret one thing, not writing our initials in a tree. I needed your permission to make that leap.

   The aspens whispered to me. Remember I asked your ancestors connected to sing a little and let go a few golden leaves, they cooperated so merrily. They saw my dangerous heart. It gives everything and loves forever. Though this is problematic, with no way to turn it off when attacked. I learned to stay apart from those who cause harm, not to stop caring.

   The Doctor said my arrhythmia is worse than last time I was tested. You didn’t ask how the results of the EKG, stress tests, and blood work came out.

   The final draft of the paper book of The Lucky Boy is done, even have the ISPN number just waiting on the cover blurbs for the back. I am hopeful for the future.

   I’m writing for Nanowrimo, and you would make that funny face not recalling what it is- write a whole novel in the month of November. Today I made it to 14201 words since the first. This is makes me feel strong and I wanted to share all with you. But you are gone. Not a far as my father now dead twelve years, I still talk to him in my dreams. I need a tape recorder for my brain when sleeping to remember what he tells me.

                  Today I feel filled with grace and joy sending you this hug to share.

Love,

C. G.
copyright 2011 all rights reserved we prosecute
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