Roses For Jennifer

A birthday tomorrow
Not a happy one
At twenty eight years, a widow
Not fitting in these days of sorrow

On a mountainside in Pakistan
A refueling plane
A KC-130 crashed
Claiming the life of her man

A Marine who loved
God, Country, and Corps
Taken from her
To somewhere above

The doorbell rings
There stands a deliveryman
With his arms full of roses,
Roses, of all things.

"Hope your birthday is grand,
Mrs. McCollum," he said.
"The card says...
"’With all my love, Dan’"

This eight months bride
Soon to be mother
Of a son who
Would be her pride

This new widow’s grief
was eased in the relief
Of a bouquet of love
sent by her husband
Though he’d been nine days above

Nine days dead...
But, foresight ordered ahead
She would always treasure
Dan’s beautiful roses of red.
© Faye Sizemore, Apr 2002