Remembrance and memorial

As the flag passed by, fluttering in the breeze, a young Marine saluted and then stood at ease.

How many men like him had fallen through the years?

How many died on foreign soil with many mothers tears?

Listening to the bugler play “Taps” I felt a sudden chill, wondering how many times “Taps” had meant “Amen.”

A thought of all the mothers and wives with interrupted lives, of unmarked graves in Arlington. No, Freedom isn’t Free, but as the breeze blows though the trees, You can hear a whisper say: “Remember me, Remember me...”

Evarist LeMay
Warwick