Memorial Weekend

People barbecue, roast marshmallows

over a campfire, buy granola

at the farmer’s market, fish on private boats,

and smoke to McLean’s American Pie.

They take advantage of salon deals,

mattress discounts, and a day out of the office.

I manage a “cheap junk” yard sale.

 

For a dollar you can have grandma’s bonnet,

Rusted silverware, and spin-wool sponges. The

Leather golf bag, the vintage child’s bike, they might

Be worth something; this watch band might be gold.

“Want it and I’ll throw in this 40s cookbook. 

A dollar - please?”

 

To a boy I sell an aviation book from late 1910.

He squishes his glasses up his scarecrow nose

Onto his lopsided face and tells me he wants

To be a pilot. His family is playing with a

Long-antennaed T.V. until the eldest picks up

A King James and whistles. Swiftly,

They take their leave.

 

That night I close my eyes and do something 

Long before avoided. That night I pray

For the deployed soldiers

Lost in the sands of Afghanistan.