On the field of battle cold smoke and ash lying still on
faces lost to history…sightless eyes staring upwards,
thoughtless and uncaring now and forever, they wait with
stranded minutes, hours, days…for the meaning to
sink in to appear to rise and be seen to become
the “why” so many have searched for.
Cause and country walk the lonely landscape; listening
and breathing; small, silent gasps of the fetid air, the
clench of death around hearts in spasm, in nostrils, in
souls, in…time this will be forgotten; lucid madmen
will again litter the land with broken ideas, unworkable
schemes; power strength standing and control.
The dead and dying are faceless and everyone as they
lay in state, in shame, in fact as the evidence accumulates
as time rushes to bury, to confuse and to lose all that
we’ve learned about ourselves, about what it means to
believe in cause and country; a reason for being
above our own small spot in the dirt.
We owe them, the dead and dying, we owe them their
grace their bravery their will their stamina their…belief
of bigger things ideas choices and something that lingers
past death…coalesces congregates and connects us all
in a common bond a common motion toward a
common and welcoming end.
For “what” is regardless; the sacrifice as it was done on
behalf of what we believe in…not what I believe…not
what they believe…we as a whole, a thing going onward
without them; we owe we entrust and we need to grieve
for the ideas lost, the memories never made, the minutes
used for denying them the rest of their lives.
They fought for us, our today and tomorrow, they died
with our dreams in their eyes, they sacrificed what
we couldn’t can’t won’t but they are us; always
always always us on the fields in the air on the sea
and in our souls–in memoriam–they are