For My Scouts

I have built a house within my heart
where all of my Highland Scouts live.
Each one has a permanent room
though all of the windows
are draped in black
and the tenants are never coming back.
Grief is mine…and I am selfish…
I hoard their memories with relish.
Inside are stored essences of each
...of good times and bad
of all the things that have been.
I can lift the curtains when I am lonely
and they all laugh and live again…
Many of my Scouts have lived there a
long time…with a Black Panther
painted upon their doors.
Inside I can hear their laughter
and my tears fall upon the floor…

© 6/26/2008 Chuck Schwiderski

This poem inspired  by Faye Sizemore

Awarded 6/27/2008

Awarded 6/27/2008