Bill Grace Poems

Retired, I will never grow long hair
It is the least that I can do
To show those who wear the uniform
That there are ties that bind
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The bank of flags and red and white stripped coffin
are electric to our sight
Despite our most profound enemy being our need for drama
I am glad our local paper keeps the pressure on.
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When Charlie tries to hustle movies
He is at his worst despite honorable effort
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It has occurred to me
As one who is future oriented
That his can be a bad trap for us,
The most true issue being
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The storms of summer end with breaking light
This tells nothing of my daughter's fright
Of junior high school days that will flow
One upon another for her to know
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If there is a divine mind
It does not work like human minds
This ever expanding thing beyond the stars
Through sacrifice we must at least suspect it moves
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When Fortune magazine on its cover proclaimed:
Unshackled! I felt a strange unease.
These were the Reagan years
A man I liked but was unsure of
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When Fortune magazine on its cover proclaimed:
Unshackled! I felt a strange unease.
These were the Reagan years
A man I liked but was unsure of
...

The daily press brings me word
Of another soldier fallen
I light a candle in my heart
Proclaim it here that He is near
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