Arnhem. Not the first time, and not the last. However, up to this point, it's all the tribute I have. D, I'm coming.



Out, ensnared beyond the trappings of the war, did we spill our sorrows, as we left Arnhem, and it’s innocence.”

-Shiv Lewis, Excerpts from Riptide, 1932


So your wish to get away,

Is but a stone’s throw from the shore.

A march to the pews on Sunday,

You know you’ve been there before.


Gather what little you need,

Remember what you already know.

A burning desire to feed,

A place where you want to go.


Where have you landed,

In the backcountry of rolling green.

Fields to graze unbranded,

The scope of life's glossy sheen.


To the left lies the past,

One of hardship and trial.

To the right you go fast,

Running down the Miracle Mile.


Don’t get ahead of destiny,

But draw the line someday.

Trek on breathlessly,

But stop someplace.


These skies look all too familiar,

And a memorable sign points North.

Mines are the case of gold and silver,

Filled with immeasurable worth.


Reaching the river,

Wading into ankle deep water.

The clouds overhead signal Winter,

Old maid still waits at the altar.


The surface laps overhead,

And suddenly she’s ten feet under.

It’s as if the road ahead,

Disappeared like the lost lover.


And then she wakes,

It having been a dream.

Dawn strikes through the drapes,

Her mind tears at the seams.


She vows to return again,

Even if it takes her life, or two.

I have made my amends,

But now can you?


Submitted: January 20, 2018

© Copyright 2022 Dan Zuniga. All rights reserved.

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