By Jeremy Nathan Marks
PROMPT — I will not rest until ...
— For Milton Marks
It’s Independence Day Main Street July Fourth in small town Rhode Island I am walking with my grandfather on the anniversary of his death
After the fireworks, hot dogs, median strip painted red, white, and blue everyone shouting Milton! Doc! hail, fellow well met! stopping to chat we walk into a House of Worship and say a prayer together I pray for him and he prays for his many loved ones long passed
may their memories be a blessing
Doc, dentist Pacific War veteran husband father my grandfather
antique and coin collector good citizen who handed out two dollar bills
to small businessmen wishing them luck as they launched their ventures
(he knew that he was one of them) and because he only asked
not to be forgotten
In the worship house are many lights
small bulbs on a wall that are lit
next to the names of his brothers and sisters
his parents and his wife
And I discover that in his foresight
he has paid for bulbs for my father
my mother, my sister, and me
He tells me had I met your wife
and daughters I would have purchased
spots for them too.
Jeremy Nathan Marks lives in London, Ontario, Canada. Recent poetry and prose appear in Unlikely Stories, Bluepepper, Sledgehammer Lit, Ginosko Review, The Pangolin Review, New Verse News, Dissident Voice, 365 Tomorrows, New Reader Magazine, and Every Day Fiction.