Memorial Day

Presented without further comment, a poem by my Recon Brother, Bryan Moulton.

Dedicated to those who have given all that they can in the defense of our nation, I offer my own humble tribute:

Morning rays, a golden hue, give to your pale visage
Shadows, banished by the day, lurk in angled lines and draws
I lie in peace amidst dew-dropped curves and blades on which you lie
A blanket, born of heavenly breath, warm and safe beneath the sky

An echo, a mourn, not seen but felt, a memory long ago
A flash of light, a flash of sound, age-faded but crisp and bold
Loving assault upon senses, dulled, these memories to the fore
O’ershadow the triumphant trumpets’ call to a friend in need no more

Eyes lift from the green to the playful draught, teasing brilliant stripes with ease
Starry night turns starry day, watched by timeless guardians, freed
A dance in the wind, the fabric plays, with its furl and snap of cloth
Watched over by beams of radiant gold, free of want and grief and wroth

Wondrous gaze falls to alabaster skin, in blessed relief, stark
By warmed touch, your closed eyes have kept me through the dark
A spot of color, here and there, my eye is drawn toward
As light’s embrace engulfs the forms lying there upon the sward

In it forms remembered touch, a soft caress of fabric bold
Nevermore to be prepared, to put hot iron to patch and fold
Hang up your cartridge belt, my friend, stow horn and save your shot
I recite familiar phrase, echoed in time, “I have the watch”

A duty ends, a soul at rest, I stand after the night
And turn my gaze to hallowed rows
Of marble ranks of white

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