Remembrance
By heinzs
Remembrance Moonglow through grey wisps, how peaceful all seems this starry night. Crisp cold fingers reach through wool and touch shivering skin. Breath fog halos surround the living, reflecting the light on solemn faces. Slowly they lower their comrade into the frozen but receptive ground. So many miles from home, continents and oceans intervene, their thoughts still stream back to their folks, their loves, their lives. One more has joined the multitude that will not be returning. Buried on that foreign shore, now made his by deathright, in a nameless grave... silent, but not forgotten. Hear the voices of our war dead crying out their plea for peace. Nevermore was their plight to be repeated by other mothers' sons. The "War to end War" did not. Perhaps the message was not clear, but only deaf ears could not, would not hear. The cry rings out once more. A new battle under a new moon. New graves in the winter's chill. This time we must listen lest the voices become still. 12-04-2001 Written December 4th, 2001 © on Dec 04 2001 04:00 AM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl 0 • 12
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"Remembrance..."