And the Army of the Separated Shall Drown in Tears

How many men have said good-bye to how many sons and how many daughters at how many train stations bus stations airline terminals how many men have gone charging into the brink tear-stained and moving forward how many of them have wept in their cars in the dark garages or on the rain-swept buses from Gare de Lyon to Saint-Michel how many gone back and vacuumed their now-empty apartments, tossing out the Cracker Jacks wrappers and Doctor Pepper cans how many have folded the sheets for the next visit while scanning the schedule of the evening's reruns, how many have braved the next morning, burying themselves in ambitions not really theirs how many oh how many have gone on, bereft of their one unimpedible meaning, ridden by guilt that should not be theirs but for the innocent faces of their children waving waving from the closing doors of the TGV and Berkshire Transit and Long Island Railroad and Delta Shuttle how many how many does it take to make an army a battalion an industry for therapists and counselors and support groups how many does it take in this world of doings and undoings this world of knots tied and untied loves declared and undeclared, blood thinned out by distance and separation and the sounds of trains leaving doors closing engines revving buses parting oh Lord no man is an island but we are an army an army charging eternally forward no enemy in sight anywhere only love and more love and broken love and doors opening and closing and our children waving good-bye see you soon I had a wonderful time a wonderful wonderful time a wonderful time