They said that you were dressed right
In your blues, your red and white,
The fresh cut flowers were neatly laid,
The flag was folded as the band had played.
We stood and watched with Sunday’s best
In places not for playing you would rest,
Momma fell sick, said it was the heat
When they lowered you under our feet.
They said that you were dressed right
With your blues, your red and white,
But none of those names engraved in stone
Or those flags waving for some proud cause
That gives the grownups much applause,
Or even your medals matter—because you are gone.
___
I am a high school teacher in Hillsborough County, Florida. I am 65 and a graduate of San Diego State University. I was born in Walton on Thames, England. Recent publications include The Warwick Journal, Poetry Magazine, One of Four, Down in the Dirt, May, June, July, The Inquistion, The Journal, The New Writing, The Hudson Review, Essence, Forge, Houston Literary Review, Greensilk Journal, BlackCatPoems, Munyari.com, and the forthcoming issue of Grasslimb in August. Hopefully, these will be published in a future book called, “Caliban.”
Wednesday, March 28th, 2012 1:17 pm
Categories: Issue 5.4, Poetry
