Memorial Day

Memorial Day

Deborah Beach Giordano
© May 30, 2010

It is still and quiet —
as silent as the grave —
as empty as the Tomb.

Stones stand at attention
and the trees keep watch
where birds sing no revelry.

It is the last posting;
a lonely land
enclosed by sorrows.

Families arrive
bearing bouquets
like lovers

and kneel before
the names and dates
etched upon their hearts.

Surviving comrades pause
to reflect, to grieve,
and then to go on living;

their hard-won gift
and the burden
they must carry.

It is still and quiet —
as silent as the grave —
as empty as the Tomb.

Stones stand at attention
and the trees keep watch
where birds sing no revelry.

Miniature flags;
bright red, white and blue
cover the field

as if sprung forth
from the lives
they commemorate.

Unseen sacrifices,
unpleasant truths
of the costs others have paid.

Elsewhere Americans
laugh and play,
shop and spend,

far more blind
than the death-shut eyes
of those here at rest.

There are no voices
giving thanks
from “a grateful nation,”

it is still and quiet —
as silent as the grave —
as empty as the Tomb.

Stones stand at attention
and the trees keep watch
where birds sing no revelry.

The wind rises
the halyard
clangs eight bells;

With a shouted command
a black-clad crow
spreads his wings,
flying over
in a final salute.

It is Memorial Day
in America.

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About inklingscommunity

I am a struggling Christian, committed pacifist, near-obsessive recycler, incurable animal lover, inveterate tree-hugger; a nature mystic, a socialized introvert, an advocate for the vulnerable, an opponent of exploiters.
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