In my small village square.
Stands a granite obelisk.
Bearing the names of those
who gave their all in
the countless wars
of the last century.

The august sun
hot and unbearable.
Yet still after all these years.
on his anniversary
I walk up the granite steps
and search for his name.

There are so many names.
So much heartache.
Then I find it as I always do.
My fingers tracing
the chiseled letters.
Of Joseph Reilly
my boyhood friend.

We served in Nam
together as young men.
Closing my eyes
I see the flash of the landmine
as he stepped in front of me.
How can I possibly thank him
for saving my life
at the cost of his own.

On my white shirt
his name reflects
from the sunlight
on the golden filigree.
Its like he is trying to say
I love you man.

I mouth the words back silently.
A passing cloud covers the sun
For just a brief moment.
His name fades
from my white shirt.
But on the granite wall it remains.