StarPoet Newsletter Vol. X, No. XXI.5

 

1.

 

 

Fallen soldiers, military veterans,
Bands and aging troops
Marching on parade.

 

Silver star, Bronze star, purple heart in Nam,
The veterans' slashes into the ground,
A gash across our collective memory.

 

Yorktown, Antietam, a thousand others,
Our bloody multitude watches clear eyed,
Their lives unforgotten.

 

At the end of Memorial Bridge,
Near the great statues of Valor and Sacrifice,
The ten thousand bikers of Rolling Thunder,
Tattooed and leather clad grizzled sentinels
Of the American Flag and all those others
Who did not come back, ride head and tail light,
A spectacle of stars and stripes, chrome and denim,
Sunburned arms and still firm handshakes.

 

Five thousand more, maybe six,
Back from the sandbox through Dover Air Base;
Flag draped coffins, silently flown,
Iraqi Freedom, Desert Storm,
And the cold reality of the Afghan,
Women and men who did not hesitate,
Returning home one last time
To parents and spouses, friends and children.

 

2.

 

 

Lay the wreath slowly, play the pipes lowly,
Have six politicians to sing me a song;
We were once where they are,
Roses and poppies on the gravestones,
Row by row by row.

 

We once grew strong, raised our families,
We loved and we were loved,
A nation's true sons and daughters,
And now we lie, sister and brother,
In the bright alabaster hills of Arlington.