An Enigma

by Mary D. Sanford

There are no journals left to tell us what was wrong
No hints given,
No answers to the practice test forthcoming.
This is not Hangman and we your eager students.
There are no clues here to help us win this game
It's Jeopardy! and There Are No Winners!
Sorry, folks. No champagne bubbles, no Lawrence Welk
You go on home now, and drive real safe.
It is a long goodbye
a goodbye, perhaps, that will never be over.

They say you were one for drama--the shock value king
Too tough--you never had remorse
Your anger was a shiny badge
You polished spit shined, fingering the filigree,
The battle scars of long forgotten wars, and you, the stoic veteran,
Savoring your wounds.

And I am angry too, my brother, as much for what you did
As what you left unsaid
I'm mad and I refuse to play!
I paid my dues--and then some,
tattoos sound the cry.
There are no debtors left to call, no snarling dogs
Demanding restitution.

Did anger make you whole or give you hope?
I do not, do not, DO NOT understand.
For you I wish you peace among the fields, a laying down of weapons,
A letting go of wars.

The Author

Mary D. Sanford became a writer in the 2nd grade when her teacher made a big fuss over the four-line rhyming poem she wrote. After writing for educational purposes for the past kazillion years (she has a Ph.D. in Adult Education plus three other degrees), she began to face her fears 2 summers ago and started writing regularly. Recently she wrote her very first short story. For the past two years she has been a regular contributer to the Beacon Hill News, a weekly SE Seattle newspaper. A divorced woman from New York, she makes her home in Seattle where she works as a community college professor, still talks fast with a 'funny' accent, and loves STRONG coffee and the lovely NW rain.