The Bracelet (Revised)

The Bracelet

1971
The bracelet she wore
A symbol of absence
The hope of return
Of a man she never met

A husband of her own
A baby on the way
Watching the news
Draft dates and death

Dreading both
She stares at the bracelet
Pretty soon she’d have another
A baby due in September

1991
Wearing the bracelet her mother wore
A symbol of absence
Losing hope of return
Of a man she’ll never meet

Just 20, no child, no husband,
Sitting in the college cafeteria
Watching the news, no draft calls
But another war just the same

She wondered about the family of
Barton Creed, Lost in March 1971
Were his kids watching, remembering
A man they’ll never know?

2001
Towers Fall, Another war on the brink
Pregnant with child, the third generation
A bracelet in safekeeping, cracked and taped
But never forgotten, the man she never knew.

2008
Trying on the bracelet found in the keepsake box
The boy asks about the name, a crack running through the C
A symbol of broken dreams, unresolved grief
For a man with grandchildren he’ll never meet.




SWPoet
36 Lines


Check out these two sites to see what happened to Barton S. Creed, Lost in Laos, Cambodia in March 1971 and read the letter his wife wrote regarding his two children and four grandchildren.  His son is currently serving his country in 2008 and is alive and well.  His daughter also served her country after graduating from the Naval Academy in Annapolis. 

http://www.virtualwall.org/dc/CreedBS01a.htm
http://www.pownetwork.org/bios/c/c116.htm


****************************************************
Revised version above due to requirement of 40 lines for a contest. 

I've kept the earlier version to show
how revision can occur (for poetry class).

The Bracelet: A new generation

My mother had a bracelet she passed down
There was a name and date etched there
Six months before my date of birth
Not too long after yours.
Your father, still missing from Vietnam

March 31, 1971.  Lost in Laos, Cambodia
And a mother with three children
No father for her son, no father to bury and mourn
September 1971, my mother greets her newborn daughter,
Hospital bracelet on one wrist, your father’s on another

March 1991, another generation’s war
I’m a college student wearing my mother’s bracelet
Watching my generation’s war in the desert
Mindlessly twisting the bracelet, I wondering if he was ever found.
I noticed the crack in the C of your daddy’s last name.

November 2001, I held my firstborn son
Another war brewing, towers down, planes of fire
Back in the desert again, mothers, fathers, daughters and sons.
More bracelets to pass down through another generation
Like the one gently placed in a keepsake box, tape around the crack.

Not long ago, I showed my son the old silver bracelet
With the name Barton S. Creed 3-31-71 etched across the surface
I told him his grandmother and I wore this to remember
A man we never knew, a man who never came back.  Or did he?
I tucked my child in and kissed him good night, eagerly wanting to find out.

Late that night, in 2008, I scrolled through messages about the soldier
And found the same thing written, again and again. Tears fell from my eyes.
“My mother wore the bracelet, I wore it too.  I would pass it to my child,
But there’s a crack through the C.”  I held her mother’s bracelet, my bracelet,
Rubbing my hand over the tape I placed there 15 years before.

I read further, the messages from friends and family,
Tributes from his high school in Peekskill, NY, a world away, and yet.
Other accounts from fellow soldiers recount the last day,
they saw him alive, watching as the chopper was unable to rescue him.
They think he lived, for a short while. When they returned, he was gone.

There was letter from his wife that says he never came home.
She also said he left two daughters and an infant son
Who is now fighting in his own generation’s war. 
So I looked him up, and found him here and there.
Tall, dignified, proud, receiving honors and promotions, serving like his dad.

I wondered about my own boy, full of confidence and adventure. 
If he were to serve, which would win-pride or fear.  I thought I knew which.
I knew I didn't want anyone wearing his bracelet someday.  I also knew,
I admired his mother, his grandmother, for their contribution. 
A son is huge price to pay for freedom and for America.

As I read about you, the son of a soldier,
I have to admit I breathed a sigh of relief
As I read that you came home safely from your tour,
And are now stateside, teaching other soldiers,
Other mothers and fathers, how to stay alive in combat.

And though I never met your dad,
I have feeling he would be mighty proud of you.
Your dad’s bracelet remains in my keepsake box,
but his name remains in my heart along with another.
The son of Barton S. Creed, a soldier. 

SWPoet

I found a website that tells you what became of the Vietnam Vets missing in action who had these bands in their names but you can also purchase these bands with names from other wars, including the current one.

http://www.virtualwall.org/dc/CreedBS01a.htm
http://www.pownetwork.org/bios/c/c116.htm


Reviewers:
I know, as a poem, it needs a lot of work and I will be working on it more.  However, I wanted to get the story and the sentiment across first.  Any suggestions are welcome, though.