Reveille sounded, warmth felt, we the opaque,
Our friend, the acknowledged half-smile citation.
Today our voices heard, presence felt, never vague,
We will meet again as 11 tolls, with tears, respect and pride.
Preserve our selfless acts, fresh and real,
Time creates distance, memories clouded, diluted.
Don’t muffle our tattered drums or slow the rusting wheels,
Effervesce our spirits, our lives, and our souls.
Flash-mob moment, so proud,
Our recognition, always sadness.
Out of ashes and shadows, we are allowed,
Reluctantly into the night with discipline, we will retreat.
The radiance cools, the end so near,
Petals now crushed underfoot.
On coat lapels they disappear,
We muster with our foe, translucency, as the Last Post echoes off concrete.
©PEDRO-BATPOET 2018
Pedro Batpoet 