Posted in Poems/Poetry, Victoria C Slotto

Unnamed Heroes

I believe in heroism and, throughout my nursing career, have seen it manifested on a daily basis.  More often than not, heroes go unrecognized. I will never downplay the courage of those who serve us–first-responders, members of the military, those who have committed their lives to protect and defend. At the same time, let’s consider some of those heroes who live out their lives in relative obscurity. (That would be most of us).

4654952581_102425f4b6_m

un-named heroes

i.
a mother waits to hear him say her name,
his father, to play ball.
the child breaks silence only with his piercing cry,
tosses his food, his fists.
the daily fare of parents of autistic children.

Flower Pots
Flower Pots (Photo credit: IrishFireside)

ii.
down the street, around the corner,
potted flowers adorn window boxes.
behind closed shutters,
a neighbor/friend (not old)
decides it’s time to let death visit.
a phone call later—cancelled chemo—
he makes his peace and dies.

iii.
outside, sun plays with clouds in azure skies.
inside the empty chapel, darkness fills the stagnant space.
an ancient monk buries his head in his hands,
waits for the shroud of doubt to dissipate.

Westminster Abbey Benedictine Monastery Chapel
Westminster Abbey Benedictine Monastery Chapel (Photo credit: Jordon)

iv.
dementia creeps through tangled plaques in her brain.
with trembling fingers she punches in numbers,
asks her daughter to come in a hurry
before it’s too late to make her wishes known.

v.
fingering bruises on her face,
the woman ventures out beyond the confines
of the world she knows.
$35.00 and change,
a scrappy paper bag of clothes,
a 3-year-old child in her arms,
she sets out hoping that there’s room for her,
the address of the shelter jotted
on a crumpled envelope
in her pockt—
the pocket of her husband’s red flannel shirt.

vi.
she hates her tattoo.
she hates her body.
sometimes she hates her life.
she longs to be accepted,
still,
she walks away from those kids
when they offer her the drugs.

– Victoria C. Slotto

(A revised version of this poem appears in The dVerse Anthology edited by Frank Watson and in Jacaranda Rain, Collected Poems, 2012 by Victoria C. Slotto.)
Photo: Creative Commons License

Victoria at the Palm Springs Writer's Expo March 2012
Victoria at the Palm Springs Writer’s Expo March 2012

jr-cover-2VICTORIA C. SLOTTO (Victoria C. Slotto, Author: Fiction, Poetry and Writing Prompts) ~  is an accomplished writer and poet. Winter is Past, published by Lucky Bat Books in 2012is Victoria’s first novel.  A second novel is in process.  Jacaranda Rain — Collected poems, 2012 is available on Amazon, as is the hot-off-the-press nonfiction, Beating the Odds: Support for Persons with Early Stage Dementia. Victoria’s poetry collection and non-fiction book are free to Amazon Prime Members.  Link HERE for Victoria’s Amazon page.

Unknown's avatar

Author:

RN, former hospice nurse, kidney transplant survivor, spiritual seeker, novelist, poet—Victoria C. Slotto is the author of two novels: "Winter is Past" and "The Sin of His Father", a collection of poetry: "Jacaranda Rain," and a Kindle Single: "Beating the Odds--Support for Persons with Early Stage Dementia, " all of which are available in e-book and print formats. Use the link on my blog or visit my website at http://victoriacslotto.com/ to purchase. Thank you!

9 thoughts on “Unnamed Heroes

  1. I like this poem a lot. Whenever any of us makes a decision not to live a fear-based life and face directly the uncontrolled dynamic of real life, we are heroes. Striding into change, responsibility, the unknown, the shadowy places within, anything like that takes courage and fortitude. Doing it because you want to, not because anyone told you to, is the mark of a hero.

    Like

  2. Thank you for the comments. I’m down visiting my mother…the woman I alluded to with dimension. That’s her story and it’s her 93rd birthday. I have limited Internet access…will check back mid-week.

    Like

  3. You’ve identified some of those silent heroes, Victoria. They deserve more than medals; they deserve our respect for having lived, for being strong, for stepping outside the box; for once doing what we would, hopefully, do in their place.

    Like

Kindly phrased comments welcome here.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.