Poet Laureate

Our Baggage: a Creekside Collaborative Poem
by Laura McDermott Matheric

I believe it takes courage
for any 18-year-old to leave home,
and travel to the unknown,
so I carry that with me
even until today.

I felt detached from my mother
and my high school friends.
When I was drafted,
just took my wallet
with my girlfriend’s yearbook picture,
an old photo of my mother,
and around 40 bucks and a lucky coin
my brother gave me
in an old pair of jeans and an old shirt.
With my nickname stitched on the back of my dungarees,
I quickly learned this was a status symbol
of someone from a big city.

I wore my Jewish Star necklace, in case I died
so that they would know how to bury me.
I was issued dog tags so
I could never be lost. My blood type
and religion were on them.
God could never lose me.
I carried a Bible because I wanted to
hedge my bet with the Almighty.
Thought more of that than my social security card
or birth certificate. From the very first day,
till the last day, I had those tags around my neck
no matter where I was or what I was doing. And I thank God
I was able to wear them home from combat.

When discharged, I wore my issued old boots
comfortable,
like an additional safety weapon
for defense, just in case.
I lived so much of my life then in those boots
and in my field jacket.
It was warm in the winter
and sometimes my whole life was in all those pockets.

I wore a beret.
I wore fatigues.
I wore my four air medals.
I wore the Merchant Marine Expeditionary Medal for the Gulf War.
I wore my name and stripes on my Army field jacket.
I wore my heart on my sleeve.
I wore American pride and the feelings of an optimistic future.

Butterfly Haiku

Laura McDermott Matheric

Summer sun setting
on the horizon. Look! A
Monarch Butterfly.

Orange fades to black.
The nightingale’s sweet music
trills through the silence.

Song blooms like jasmine –
the scent chases the fat moon
through the eastern sky.

Vapors trail that sky
in the dance on the Monarch;
swirling, jagged steps.

The moon’s dance leads west.
Together they dip behind
fluttering monarchs.

Having slept, the sun
spans her wings in early hours.
black becomes orange.