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MY SAILOR BOY

Used by permission of the author

I did not ask for strength to let him go

⁠(Although he seemed so young—still but a child);

I did not pray for courage—God, you know—

⁠When down the silver street, blue clad, they filed.

More than my life went with them through the snow,

⁠And yet, dear God—you saw—I smiled—I smiled.

But oh! how shall I pass each day his door

⁠Where still the shadow of his presence lingers?

How touch the things he loved to touch,

⁠Still warm and vibrant from his dear brown fingers?

How tread the silent floors his glad feet trod,

⁠Day after day—unless you help me—God!

—Viola Brothers Shore