For Mothers of the Fallen

[Charles Cingolani]

      Normandy

She was standing
on the porch
that day in June
watching her youngest
come running up the steps
and across the lawn
when it happened
on the beach
at Omaha
where her oldest lay,
face down, no longer
clawing at wet sand.

She stood there, quiet,
holding him
close,
fingering his hair.