The leaves fall
better in September,
then they are gone
by the middle of November,
when we stand in the snow
and we remember;
the fallen ones
and the sounds
of distant guns.
I ask only
to stand in silent witness.
My moment of remembrance,
mercy and forgiveness,
but I hear the cannon fire
in the distance;
for war and time
all seem to fall in line.
With our world
long fed by blood and fire.
We know war,
but peace drives our desires.
Our eyes forever seek
for something higher,
but always settle
back down
upon the ground.
Our lineages sleep beneath the dirt
that they were fighting for.
We are asked to do no more
than stand up on that sacred earth
and remember
our defenders.
For what is the worth of freedom,
if we ignore the deeds done
in our future memory?
Stand aside,
let the procession pass,
let old men,
and let young men,
mourn their brethren.
While we acknowledge sacrifices
we cannot imagine,
in the cold of mid-November
at eleven past eleven.
HG – 2016
Reblogged this on Hokus Grey and commented:
We Remember Them
Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Powerful and strong words shared.
Outstanding and needed words. Thank you.
Thank you for your kind words, and for your service.
You are welcome my friend and thank you.
Excellent poem. I was moved by it.
That means a lot. Thank you.
You’re welcome.