Days

I mark the map
with soldiers born a thousand miles away
and wonder when you'll return home safe.
I mark the days.

And then the news arrives
with half-mast flag of border state
I bow my head
and mark the days.

The neighboring town
bedecked in yellow ribbon
pays tribute to her fallen son,
as I mark the days.

I hear the broken heart
whose beat is stalled upon a final note of Taps,
a mother's sob next door.
I mark the days.