Did you see them take the green fields
one by one, now line by line on hills in echelon?

Still, holding ground held holy by their sons;
no longer marching to the smoke and drum.

Where bugler called the day to final rest,
now silence grows like lichen on the stones.

For those who gave their all at our behest,
our memories alone will not atone.

Do you see the fires burning at a distance,
and more hallowed ground broken day by day?

Each new stone laid a fading reminiscence;
each new boquet soon fading into gray.

What better way to honor sacrifice
than to pause and speak their names aloud.

Until the gods of war are pacified;
until our flag no longer serves as shroud.

It was springtime in the capital.
I visit here every year on this day.
Cherry blossoms are abundant
everywhere I look warm spring sunshine.
The wall is long and filled
with the names of the fallen.

I look for the name
of my boyhood friend Joseph Reilly
It is always hard to find.
So many names so much sadness.

We served together in Nam
I hear the explosion
the flash of the landmine.
He gave his life that I might live
a gift beyond any gratitude.

A shaft of sunlight falls
onto the gold filigree
of the names on the wall.
On my white shirt they reflect
like on a screen.
I see his name on me
as though he is reaching to me
to say I love you man.

A cloud passes the sun
and his name melts from my shirt
On the wall it stays