by William Crisp


“It makes no difference what men think of war…war endures. As well ask men what they think of stone. War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting the ultimate practitioner.” Cormac McCarthy Blood Meridian

I’m enjoying a tall glass of “Ranger Milk” on a Friday afternoon after logging a 14 hour work day, much of it, gratefully, I was paid for and a good part of it was even rewarding. I’m thinking about Memorial Days past as I watch my golden nectar swirl.  Soon I will raise one, slightly with a nod, to a toast for my unseen hosts, companions of the past and ghosts of my present. There are empty tree stands and shadows tossing vaporous flies on plum spots along the stream that haunt me.



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