Jon Ojala Poems

At the end, he simply fell asleep, and was gone.
Before this, we sat in vigil around his bed,
family and friends,
holding inside our grief and sorrow,
...

It happened decades ago, when he was seven years old.
He worshiped his parents, who in turn
adored him, and did everything they could
to make his life wonderful and safe.
...

Ahead of me on the sidewalk strolls
a young couple, arm in arm,
sharing a secret thought,
oblivious to the swirling mass of humanity
...

Poets through the ages have said
it starts slowly,
this transfiguration,
much like an autumn leaf
...

I stand at the edge of the great pond, at dusk,
calmed by the serenity of all that I see.
I skim the smooth stone across the water,
watching it bounce along the surface until,
...

The Master Swordsmith starts
with a dull, jagged lump of steel.
He heats it in a forge until it glows bright red.
Then he hammers it on the anvil,
...

To Norma,
whose smile upon waking in the morning
shows the depth of your love for me,
even after almost four decades together.
...

The American Flag, folded in a triangle now, rests on the bureau at home.
A few short hours ago it was draped over her husband's coffin,
in honor of his sacrifice, really their sacrifice.
'From a grateful nation' the Master Sergeant whispered to her
...

The past does not consume me,
but brings me a measure of peace.
Each time with you was a gift,
a simple desire for intimacy,
...