I've Seen the Altars....

A Reflection on the Current Crisis

I've seen the altars, 
The sacred rooms of
Unmade beds and cluttered desks, 
T-shirts draped over chairs and 
Sneakers flung across the way
With abandon. 

The mother will sneak in at night
Leaving the room pristine 
To wring out the distant scent
Once embedded in the pillow; 
The father, separately, sits on the floor,
Staring at the empty space in the wall
Against which never again will
The soccer ball, once so annoying,
Ricochet. 

A medal and a framed letter
Occupy the wall space previously 
Reserved for the photographs
Once expected but never to be taken
Of the once but past soldier son.