CG (10/29/1924 / Honolulu Hawaii)


Arlington, Cementary

I see hills, valleys, Arlington I see mountain top,
But most of all I see the graves of many hero’s,
waste of war created by others, their mistakes,
I see peaks in the mist, I see gravestones in
Fertile fields, I see and feel the disgrace of War,
Sons and Daughters seen no more.

Cherry blossoms, dogwood trees in full
Bloom, there to please, does not take
Away the apathy felt by everyone by presence,
At the Unknown soldiers grave,
Guards walk, not to know his name,
While others stop to gaze,
As old men in wheel chairs stare across the
Water, focus on the wall, with outstretched
Hands he reaches out mumbling words of
passion as he seeks the name of a loved one,
here no more. Who sacrificed their life in vain,
Says a prayer for the dead, for soon,
his name shall be engraved,
Perhaps be memories, for someone else
with tears in their eyes, who decides to,
Stop and gaze.

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Comments (1)

I could almost hear the poignant sound of taps being played as I read your poem. Very eloquent, my friend. Take care. Warm regards, Sandra