Posted on 05/29/2005 4:01:34 PM PDT by LS
Edited on 05/29/2005 4:03:01 PM PDT by Lead Moderator. [history]
Mulch and manure, pungent odors drift suppressed by barbeques, steaks and chops vie for amber coals.
Dogs yodel at unfamiliar cars, strangers to us, yet friends to neighbors. Handshakes, hugs greet visages long absent, and smile sweet remembrance.
Children's games and radios blare, yet another sound struggles to gain the ear. Marching bands and mayors are preface to craggy faces, bald and blind, slow afoot, though only now,
for was it only this morning, it seems, that handsome youth stared back from mirrors? Khaki, white, blue and gold---all fit their form like store-front models, tight and crisp, pleated and pressed, a-charge with life, and promise.
Theirs is the sound that time celebrates, that patriot voices extol. Theirs are the eyes that search out comrades---some shells, some gods---aware that only yesterday they shared pain and honor and death.
Many marched and sailed; some remain afar, above the ground, many below. All who donned the emblems of liberty adorned to their breast became a shield for all.
Exceptional few compressed life's glorious dignity into the timeless wisdom, "No man hath greater love . . . ."
Nice, LS. Thanks for sharing it.
I normally hate poetry, but this is nice. Thanks.
Very nice - thanks for posting.
redrock
Nice...
one who hasn't been there can only imagine the pride and dignity...
Well done, LS.
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