Barred owl cradled in the snow-dusted trees.
Something so serene is a beautiful thing.
Down the trail, back turned, meander on.
From the branch, hurling down, talons out.
Remind a creature how to flee.
Something so is a beautiful thing.
The Funny Stories Of War
At my age,
Grandpa was dodging death
in the jungles of New Guinea.
Imagine jet black hair, a wiry body
that could scale a palm tree. He’s clutching a pistol,
zig-zagging around tree trunks
beneath a broadleaf canopy.
Then a hill,
the sky revealed, bullets falling like rain.
It’s the part where this almost never happened.
The red cape Grandma ties
around her child’s neck.
The personal ad Dad writes
in the Madison paper during Grad School.
The woman who writes back.
Grandpa told the funny stories
of War. Shooting an empty helmet
he thought was a Japanese soldier.
Army coffee that made him shit quick.
Men who hate killing
are more likely to come home.
During Christmastime, we remember
the next part. Us, out of the jungle,
clustered at the window, waving at
the first to travel home,
the unlikely ways
Connor Drexler pursues his passions through reading, writing, singing, adventuring, and learning anything new. He’s been a community organizer, a farm-hand, and many other things in his lifetime, but will always remain a writer. His love of writing reflects his deep curiosity for life.