Memorial Day 2025
Outdoors we gather, amongst the silent graves,
Bedecked with flags, each soldier’s resting place.
I sit in silence, waiting for Mass to begin;
Unearthly cicada sounds, the only din.
Just before, sev’n planes flew overhead,
Not to bomb, but to plume their smoke instead.
The bagpipes played “Amazing Grace” —
I weep, but not just grieving tears —
There’s joy that soldiers may be in a better place,
Taking advantage of God’s grace.
I have no words for those who were so brave,
Or perhaps unwittingly went to grave.
I cry for all the lost and all the dead,
For any harmed by war’s sick dread.
The sun, the warmth, is healing on my skin.
I pray, that through our pain, we all will heal again.
clarakatalin 