and the ships sailed...

One nation under god,
indivisible, with liberty
and justice for all…

That’s what they’d pledge each morning
in the 1st regiment of Division 23

The ships were stacked in the harbor-
an iron chain on a blue blanket.
And this morning the destination was Normandie.

As the ships ripped open the sea,
a young man dreamed
of the places he’d seen
in the two years since enlistment-

round the great boot of Italy,
the immaculate stoned streets of England,
and the sweet summer blossoms of Austria-
and the ships sailed to the open horizon…

The young man was startled by the mortars
that began to echo in an intensifying roar;
louder then the surf that beat the outer reef of the horn.

Into the U-boats they poared,
bobbing like tin cans to shore-
then the cans began to sink
by the stones hurled from the beach.

Behind them, their ships flag waved goodbye,
as the iron giant gasped its last breath
before slipping to the bed of the sea.

With one blinding tremor it was over.

It took 250 stitches to re-aline the boys skull,
and through the process
his eyes had grown hollow-
and his legs had vanished.

It was a cheap ticket home,
compared to the price many others paid,
or so they said.

He was rolled home in his silver wheelchair-
almost as shiny as the medal he received
for serving his country.
Though, he could not see it.

His family’s black faces
escorted him to his black home
where he sat in his chair
in the blackness-
that night he cried
but his hollow eyes
shed hollow tears invisible
as the world around him.

At night when he fell into sleep,
he would dream in color-
of the great boot of Italy,
and the immaculate stone streets of England-
the sweet summer blossoms of Austria,
and the ships sailed to the horizon…

50 years later the old man cashed in
his government “thank you notes”
and traveled to D.C. with his grandson.

There he felt the braille on the wall-
another generation of blind men
who sailed on ships to the open horizon.

He wished he could lay
on the cold, stone skin of these men.

That night in his hotel,
he gripped the silver metal in his palm
as he fell into sleep.

There he dreamt in color-
of the great boot of Italy,
and the immaculate stone streets of England-
the sweet summer blossoms of Austria-

And his ship sailed to the open horizon…