my mother told me
of women, young women
who loved the soldiers
of WWII or Korea
engagement rings
sparking diamond hope
on all those left hands
who promised
to sew their wedding dresses
from parachutes
museum pieces now, those dresses
sewn from silk or nylon
that carried love safe to ground
folded, delicate promises
of future suggested and planned
but never guaranteed
but somehow made possible
by that tented silk
opening into air
or never having to open at all
Susan Daniels Poetry 
You know I heard similar stories from my gran
Yes, the stories stuck…and came out, triggered by my parachute haiku 🙂
beautiful. makes me miss my gram and her stories.
🙂 know what you mean…
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Susan!
A better use of the material than for war…
You know it! When I write about soldiers, I want to write about them as husbands, fathers, sons, and sweethearts, not human fodder for violent gods (not that I feel strongly about this, at all 🙂 )
and now, let me not forget moms, daughters, and wives!
soft landings, harsh hard war! for one second, I froze, cos I thought the last verse was going to read “or never opening at all”
Oh, that would be quite the brutal ending for such a gentle poem–talk about a turn with an ouch (or a splat). Oh, my, stop me NOW!
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