19K’s 15K (revised)

My feet are bone against pavement.

There, I see my father’s shadow.

The ghost whispers a shape into my ear-

“Shoulders, pack, bedroll, helmet,

boots, gunstock”

Our steps fall in the same place for

the first time.

I don’t believe in ghosts-

but I’ve seen a few.

They are always tomorrow.



Ft. Knox

revised 09APR2005