confirms the Flag is yet to be carried to the deck
for display on this Memorial Day.
Limp and dusty from its corner of the room
it hefts extra light, edges slightly frayed
from wind and sun and age.
Folded tight against its stars, the stripes fall
away from the light aluminum pole,
spreading a protective corner over the porch rail.
There stands a man who served the Army in Germany
while the U.S. fought in Korea, the brothers on Navy
ships and subs in the sixties while Vietnam was
the American War Region.
Prayers and acknowledgements rise toward the
graying sky, heart-numbing thank yous for a family Marine
who now is home from three years in Iraq.
One friend absent during the Gulf War, then
home and safe, and the elders in the Sunday paper,
World War II Veterans, home and safe, and the cousins
and uncles from the Japanese tragedy; all home. Safe.
Prayers and acknowledgements rise toward the
graying sky, heart-numbing thank yous for the thousands
of men and women who served us, the U.S., all over the World,
and did not come home. But kept us safe.