Just For You Poetry

Something called Pearl Harbor jarred my mind,
when Japan dropped bombs and started war;
life back then was different and more kind,
except for the fighting we all abhor.

I 've photos of my dad from those days,
a Marine that they called the old man;
he was only 26, and very far away,
from the New England hills and land.

I only know he was a soldier from the pics,
I was so young, I don't remember much;
he helped rebuild the shipyard (as his licks),
he was the man to count on in a clutch.

Pearl Harbor is for me, a distant time,
recollections told by others in a bar;
another place. another island clime,
medals put aside in some dusty jar.

Today I fly the flag for those that died,
to keep our nation strong and free;
we honor those that fell and tried,
so we could live our lives and be.

I can't help, but reflect on your line, "life back then was different and more kind." In spite of the wars there have been, life did seem more kind looking back. At the very least, it seemed people were more polite and considerate. Anymore, being polite and considerate can get a person into trouble in some places. We live in a very strange world these days. But of course, your poem is about remembering Pearl Harbor, not the alien world we live in. So I'm off topic. It's a very nice poem. I love the nostalgia.

Thanks Cindy,
The time was better because families were close-by, not scattered all over the country. My father's family was in New Hampshire, my mother's, in Vermont, a scant twenty miles apart. I moved to Prescott as my sister lived in Prescott Valley (7 miles) as did my brother. (Also a cousin, my uncle's (Mom's brother) daughter, lives in Prescott Valley) My 3 children, my 3 grandchildren and my 3 great-grandchildren, all live in the Tacoma, Washington area.
Thanks for the nice comment.