Graphic by Billie
We Saved A Seat
We keep a place in the parlor, a seat for an old friend,
Someone who went to fight for us, we shall not see again.
But just in case he wanders by, he’s welcome to a rest.
We’ve got the seat saved just for him, as flowers will attest.
We don’t expect to see him, though we think of him a lot.
We only know he said, “I’m going, and I’ll give it all I’ve got.”
We know he gave it that and more, and didn’t pass in vain.
I guess we sorta knew it when he stepped up on the train.
I’d rather think of him that way, instead of in the mud.
And certainly I wouldn’t want to think about the blood.
Determined was his visage, and noble was his cause,
And when we count our blessings ‘round, we stop here and we pause.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . May 3, 2004
© 2004
The prize is Liberty, and the coin of its purchase is Life. We risk our lives in defense of Liberty, and those who survive know its cost, and its value.
I thought this needed to speak again, today. We honor those who served, and we remember them ... the sometimes distant stares, the empty sleeves, and the empty chairs.