Sister Moon
by Daryl Ross Halencak
Sister Moon and I look for nighttime shine,
past the darkened clouds,
over the rainbow, through the shadows.
Will we gaze beyond the covered sun?
We long for the evening glimmer of the western sky.
Into the happiness, will we see the silver eye of the smiling dusk?
Can we taste the cherry wind?
Smell the flowers of the dream river?
Touch the azure field, tucked under the gentle dew?
We wonder if life is fleeting.
Will we hear the silent brook rolling into eternity?
Will Sister Moon and I chase the somber meaning and be on the same path?
Private First Class
by Daryl Ross Halencak
The wounded private first class prayed for the end of the War.
New Guinea was his location and swamps were his abode.
He wondered whether he would see the sunset again. The farm? His beloved family?
He longed for the purple haze in the Western Sky and riding his pickup truck along sandy roads.
Did he smell cooked pork or taste his mom’s pies? Gazing the dusk over the Rolling Plains?
The guns sounded like a tornado and the barrage fired at his unit.
He hit into his flesh.
He bled from his ripped stomach.
Did he watch his buddies die?
He said the Rosary and curious whether the bullets were removed from his stomach.
“Am I dead?” he whispered to God.
But he lived and his sacrifices were not in vain.
He returned to his tractor planting cotton.
(Editor’s Note: NonDoc publishes poetry, short prose, visual art and other artistic ideas pitched by creatives in Oklahoma and around the world. All submissions are encouraged, and new creatives are constantly being sought. Submit your work for publication by contacting Editorial@NonDoc.com.)
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