Teresa Harr-Pena Poet Bio

Vacation Day 1

I sat in a meditative state
Released everything inside
Hollowed out my being
For a single parent whose son had died

I drove a thoughtless road
Until my destination was in view
Roger was crying in the shop
I didn't know what to do

I hollered from behind him
"A Diet Water please"
I can always make him smile
Even when sorrow is all he really sees

His only sons things are EVERYWHERE
How does one decide
What to keep or discard
Without taking away a father's pride

We left the shop 
Headed for the front door
With my eyes wide shut
I prepared myself for more

The living room, dark and gloomy
Three electric guitars leaning on their stands
Waiting there patiently for
His sons mighty hands

I went to his sons room
Only some things had changed
Pictures, letters, flags, and medals
From politicians that will treat him estranged

The worst soviegners for a father
Of his once beloved son
And we went through items
One by one.

Five medals of honor
Including a purple heart
Four flags from services
From Bagdad to the Cemetary Park

A scroll when is son joined
Another when he died bearing his name
A letter from the President
Another from the senator...all the same

Literature from Bagdad
From a service that they held
His son was one of seven
That died, that moment, upon that field

How do you tell a man
It's time to move on
When his only reason for living
Is now dead and gone

He is now that last generation
That the world will ever know
I cannot help to wonder if 
I should really go

He hasn't worked since March
He says, 'I'm not ready yet"
Everywhere he goes
Condolences is all he gets

Two quads, Six helmets
Clothes, boots, and guitars
Truck, bicycles, nick knacks,
stereo, hard hats, and a car

I sat for hours
There was a story with all we touched
He spoiled his only son rotten
He loved him very much

His son would call on the weekends
Saturday four times, Sunday only twice
Now every time the phone rings
He turns blue as ice

He went to make dinner
But had nothing out
We headed for fast food
He started to pout

Our Main Street
Has his sons name posted everywhere
"Fallen but not forgotten"
Is a memory we all share

With a dictionary full of words
I truly have none
To express the loss
Of anyones son

We'll try again tomorrow
To see what can be done
He must know that life goes on
Even without his son.

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