This is a poem I recently penned based on an essay I wrote years ago after my father's interment at Fort Leavenworth Cemetery in 2005. He is not among the honored war dead. He survived WWII and lived to be 85. But he served in our nation's military for over 24 years. He was honorably discharged with commendations and medals, including a Distinguished Unit Citation from his deployment in the Pacific Theater. It's now known as The Presidential Unit Citation.
I inherited a legacy from him rather than money. It's been passed down to my son who was also honorably discharged from the Army. He still serves in other ways, just like my father continued to serve after he retired from the Air Force. Even though he was not killed in action, I thought it an appropriate Memorial Day post. I will add that I've not written much in the way of poetry, so take it as it is.
Gathered under the shelter we watched silently
as the Honor Guard carefully folded the flag
over his box of ashes
And although I knew it was coming
I jerked involuntarily with each rifle volley
I don’t remember the homily
The words intended to comfort the grieving
I remember the handing of the flag to
my mother
On behalf of the President of the United States and
a grateful nation
The bugler’s Taps washing over me
with finality
Collecting a bullet casing from
the Honor Guard to keep I wondered
if they understood how important their job is
To signal the end of an old war veteran’s life
My father’s heritage is not buried in a
box of ashes
It is found in the words on his marker
He served God and His Country
