Through the magic of social media, Jasper had the opportunity to read a lovely poem this morning, written by a loyal and loving member of the Columbia’s arts community, May Evans Kirby.
May Weatherwax Evans married local musician, attorney and ne’er-do-well Bentz Kirby on December 12, 2009 when Bentz’s son Richard was 24 years old.
She and Richard have been getting to know one another ever since.
She writes, “This morning, my stepson and Bentz’s son, Richard Kirby, Jr., posted a poem on his wall. He is a Staff Sergeant in the Air Force and is currently serving in Afghanistan. The poem took my breath away. We chatted on Facebook, and we talked about how much work can go into writing a poem. I told him Worthy [Evans — May’s brother] told me his pieces are always in the works, which made me feel better.”
May continues, “I got to know Richard a little better this morning. Thank God for Facebook, Bentz Kirby (for the making of Richard and the marrying of me) and all the amazing gifts each of us has, and what a blessing it is when they are shared.”
Here is the poem May shared with Richard this Veteran’s Day morning, and below that, the poem Richard wrote which inspired her to share her own.
The Wall
“Let tyrants shake their iron rods…”
I became my fifth-grade self
when I heard the band playing
… the hymn I once loved.
Blue eyes stare at me
from under a cap of blond curls,
A reminder of the wall names as young
children who also once stood wondering.
As his parents lift
their beloved’s name from the cold black stone,
they boy and I watch each other-
I think he wonders why he is there.
The shame of knowing makes me look away.
Carnations weep from the granite base,
A sad irony, this beautiful statuary
and the ravenous war which
engulfed young men and spat out
undending casualties.
I cry because I know,
and the little boy does not,
of the many lists (not nearly as beautiful)
already made,
and the others yet to come.
I cry again when the music stops,
and the lone last band member walks away,
instrument and chair in hand.
~May Kirby, 2006
A Fleeting Dream…
I sit upon a string unwinding
And remember times that are behind me
Of love, of hate, and wasted days
Of the straight and narrow, of wandered ways
Times of cheer and times of woe
And forward to the times unknown
On I move, seeking my Eleanor
My dream to hold forever more
Still I wait, my thoughts roam free
I’ve consider long, how things could be
If everyone could see as I
Keep those close they push aside
Yet only thine-self one can control
Even that bears a heavy toll
For the pain that resides in ones own heart
Can tear a man’s world apart
Though time may heal your mortal coil
The demons left inside will kill your soul
Of this I pray that all will see
And know how true friends should be
Still it matters not the feeling felt
You can only play what cards are dealt.
~ Richard Kirby
(May Evans Kirby is originally from Alexandria Virginia. When she is not writing poetry she is a customer support rep at a local educational software company.)
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