Here, as I keep vigil with you at your last labor at the threshold of Eternity, Quiet, asleep, eyes open, closed again, I watch the river out the window: A young man shovels the mud left from the rain-soaked Nor'easter. He shovels it and tosses mud and debris into his truck. He brushes to clear the remains on the walkway: Real work. Needful work. Just as your work now is needful With Peace and Honor at the end.
©2010, John A. Mills