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To all of the women and children of Ukraine — My dears. Throughout history, women have borne witness to the catastrophes of humanity. Our sisters before us have stood the tests of war and time as the ones who keep our families, our communities and countries together while our men fight for our just causes.
I started writing this poem years ago, but left it half written and couldn’t bring myself to find a way to finish it, mostly because I didn’t know how it should end. Today I did… Sitting here in this airport just look at me,In a wheelchair bandaged I can hardly see;My long journey home I... Continue Reading →
As he walked through camp Jack heard the unmistakeable sound of a woman struggling. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head trying to zero in on the origin of the sound. When he located the source he double-timed it to a tent row as the cries intensified. Jack threw open a tent flap... Continue Reading →
For anyone who has ever worn the uniform Jack Hemingway sat in the right front seat of the military Humvee. As they rolled along the desert floor he tried not to think about what had happened the day before. He was part of a forward scouting troop of Humvees and M3 Bradleys that were well... Continue Reading →
“Will you write about it?” Jack asked. “Jack, what you’re giving me is really just hearsay.” Pam said. Pam Baker was a reporter for the Tribune and had written several stories on the war. “Hearsay? I was there, I saw what happened.” “Look, I believe you. Really. But I can’t just write it without at... Continue Reading →
My rifle I hold with a steady hand, To fight for freedom and make a stand; My country goes where there is a need, Though they know that some will bleed. When setting foot on a distant shore, Prepared for battle like never before; Think not of the reason we all were sent, Or dissect... Continue Reading →
The dark may come if I close an eye, And make me scream and make me cry; Shadows long and ghosts dance near, To try and force upon me fear. Ever on guard to make a stand, To be delivered from his bony hand; Trying to kill, to quench my breath, Forcing now a rendezvous... Continue Reading →
Hemingway Ink 