He stood, leaning on the wall,
wondering, as he had so often wondered
through years that stretched into decades,
Why me?
Why am I the one standing here?
You would have started home
the very next day,
to marry your sweetheart.
But you turned to carry out
my order, and fell.
It was so long ago-
we were all so damn young,
in the morning of our lives.
Now I'm approaching nightfall,
and will be with you soon.
On the long black wall, he traced
the name of his platoon sergeant
one last time, then settled back down
into his wheelchair, and trundled off
toward the setting sun.
Memorial Day by Robina Rader | Garden Lavender Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
