For Weg by Nash

i’ll take your hand 
and we’ll go see the old barracks. 
the steam that blurred your vision 
will no more be 
and the now muddied walkway 
once forced cleaned 
by power washers 
will reflect rainbows 
in puddle pockets. 

you’ll wonder out loud 
how you got there
in the first place 
and kick a big old 
man’s shoe out of 
the scattered litter. 
it’ll roll under the 
now boarded and splintered 
look out that once sprayed 
bullets and gas. 
you’ll note the daisies. 

we’ll see a hundred things
you scratched up inside
in silence
now out.
your deepened eyes
will remember
and nodding
we’ll leave it all behind,

noting the new moon.

© Nash 2020