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C.E. Skilling

Norma Jean

It was a time when meadows fell gently before us
and the roads were nothing but settled dust
flowers lined the way as we walked along
not noticing the pump at the well, gathering rust.

We were eight and nine
and the world was an unopened gift
Norma and I were friends then
much too young to understand or have a tiff.

What will you be, when you grow up?
I'd ask as though we could see
we'd speculate on all the great things we would do
as I whittled our names in a tree.

I would be a fireman
and save the lady in the fire
Norma wanted to be a mother
with children and all that women desire.

No !!! Wait !!! I want to be a soldier
and march to a braver drum
she'd wrinkle her nose and laugh at me
thinking my boyish wish quite dumb.

We had our dreams and realities
and we both realized our goals
I weep to remember the price we've paid
with these grown up weather beaten souls.

She had her child, and lost her life
but not before she'd seen
the silly little boy that grew much taller
and came back from playing marine.

I saw her for the last time
and knew the look she wore
it frightened me to understand
how many times I'd seen it before.

The others stood around the bed
and all wished they could see
the special place that God had made
in time, for Norma Jean and me!

(OK Norma; this one's for you!)