Camp Butler, National Cemetery,
home to fallen soldiers and wives
sees a stream of folks coming
gathering for solemn ceremonies
followed by volleys of rifle shots
the whole graced
with tears
Widows with children
stand and watch, listen
kind words spoken
then flag folded purposefully
and handed to her
a gift from a grateful nation, preserved
A clang of metal against metal
as the half mast Camp flag flutters
whipping and snapping in the wind
Almost like notes, messaging,
snapping a salute
there is an unseen, but present
a dimension we sense is there
but we can’t see…yet.
Time passing,
the grave site is seeded
and the grass grows
as do the children
cars pass by on the nearby interstate
The flag flies high again, waiting,
for another procession to come
a bugle to blow
and more tears gracing this place
Resolved, said Lincoln
It shall not be in vain!
It hasn’t.
It isn’t.
Grandchildren, great grandchildren come
walk on the grass
soak in the peacefulness and wonder
at the long straight rows of markers
standing rigid at attention
“Ten Hut!”
Listen up!
Freedom is not free!
What will you pay?
Camp Butler
Memorial Day