During the War

During the War

Ron Riekki

I’d pray. The church would be as quiet as
it could be, yet always a sound somewhere.
We were so far from home that the deepness

of loneliness ghosted every move. But
the pastor would speak from behind me,
ghostlike himself, his words hanging there:

God is with you. So simple. Such short
words. Such small light coming in
through the stained-glass windows.

A day dedicated mostly to clouds. And
I didn’t turn around, didn’t verify
that it was the pastor. Maybe it was

someone else. Maybe a voice in my
head. Maybe God. Maybe a combination.
God is with you. Even during war?

Especially during war. I was a teen
at the time. The recruiters covered
the urban poor and rural poor like

blankets. Ten of us would die.
I remember standing on the shore
watching the search-and-rescue boats

looking for the bodies and the sunlight
hitting the ocean water with such richness.
There’s an intensity to every single breath.

---

Ron Riekki
Poet

Ron has published poetry in Rattle, Poetry Northwest, Beloit Poetry Journal, fiction in Threepenny Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Wigleaf, nonfiction in River Teeth, New Orleans Review, and more.

Photography by Brian Erickson