I Have a Rendezvous with Death

Alan Seeger

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows ’twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear …
But I’ve a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Every day I select a war poem, and respond to it, generally in poetic form. But perhaps not. Each poem grabs at something a little differently. Sometimes the themes blend together, sometimes they contradict. Many poets, were veterans themselves, others not. Their perspectives vary, and the poetry does in response. I’ll continue to do this as long as I keep finding poetry that explores novel or meaningful themes. You know, until the well runs dry.

An appointment

I’ll tell you man, I’ve got it planned
College application, submitted
Don’t waste your time, don’t bother
We won’t make it out, we won’t survive

I have always been good at math
Engineering, it is a good field
Thirty rounds per magazine, that’s it
Don’t need more to know, than that

There is this girl, she is the best
I think it is serious, taking it slow though
That is sweet, she is moving on
Probably feels bad for you, being here

We are going to grow old, you know
The two of us on a porch, rocking
It isn’t worth the fantasy, not for us
This valley has a plan, we won’t leave

I have an appointment, a life to live
A future, after this, we will make it home
Don’t bother, our calendar is marked
A grim appointed time, this will end

Mark your calendar, I’m not giving in
I’m not giving up on us, not that easily

Photo by Cristian Guerrero on Unsplash