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Local Focus – Global Reach

In the distance; a flash of light.
A muted noise of thunder.
I see the flash and start my count
Of one thousand one, one thousand two,
To help me guess, how far away.
I've always liked to hear the noise,
As a thunderstorm approaches.
To smell the air, during this show
As lightning, this time, appears to
Be heat lightning, flashing across the sky.
I recall a year, when in awe.
Lightning bolts, would commence
And march as soldiers to battle.
Spectacular it is, when Nature's show,
Lights up the sky, to make us aware
Of the power, in those serene skies.
We'll await for the next time.
Why are my words trying to rhyme?

I can't imagine what you are going through
When you no longer know what to do.
Patience for me, is what I need
To understand, care and to feed,
The failing mind of the one I hold dear.
Please don't forget me. That's what I fear.
But if that time comes, when you do
Forget my name. I will still know you.
I love you so, my dearest wife.
It pains me to see this in your life.

In the navy, back in the day,
on board a ship, all painted grey.
Our ship, the USS Marsh, Destroyer Escort,
tied up to Buoy 21, when in port
of San Diego. Many sailors, at this time
would have Liberty for shipmates mine.
Not wanting a uniform was the rub,
civilian clothes, banned on our ship,
not wanting uniforms, to look hip.
Joining a locker club, where you could keep,
your clothes on hangers, not in a heap,
on the floor. The Seven Seas was the club for me,
where my civilian clothes would always be,
when we were at sea. Liberty would
be the call, to lockers of steel not wood,
where we could change clothes, most certainly,
at the Sevens Seas for a small monthly fee.

I recall, from so long ago,
being at a local establishment,
one evening so clear,
that I was dancing with my Mother,
and it was dear.
I said to her, with a grin,
"Mom how come your wedding anniversary
was in June the same
year I was born, in December?"
She looked at me and said, "The first one
comes at anytime, the rest
takes nine months", you see?
I said to her, " most certainly."
I was thirty-two, while she was fifty-one.
I miss you Mom.

Walking down the path,
at night; all alone.
No flashlight,
not even a phone.
That eerie feeling
when you're in the dark
and this in jest,
no walk in the park.
Thank God, the moon
is back in view,
after going behind
a cloud or two.
This writing that
comes into my mind,
has no meaning,
but allows me
to unwind
away from the worries,
that occur every day.
Oh, I wish I
was just a kid again,
so I could go out and play.

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