Thousands of man-years
etched upon this wall,
every life has beginning and
ending, every memory full
in the eyes of the beholder.
As I scan the list of names,
I see the faces, feel camaraderie
like it was yesterday.
I can still hear your voice
as you spilled bad jokes and
raucous laughter, still
feel the safety with you
back to back.
We were a team,
we still are, in
flashback dreams.
Your life, so full of friends,
accomplishments,
is pared down to
bare minimum, yet
all of this I can see again
by touching your name, etched
in the cold granite of time.
The wistfulness in your poem is palpable and I feel your loss. One quick, physical image of your friend, complimenting the deep memories of his laughter, etc., could make this even more moving. Thanks.
The lines that pop for me are 'As I scan the list of names, I see faces, feel comraderie like it was yesterday'. And 'Your life...by touching your name, etched in the cold granite of time.' Warm life, cold granite. The contrast says it all, Dallas. I look forward to the day(if it comes in our lifetime) when young mens lives are no longer cut short. Thank you for your service and condolences on the loss of your brothers...
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Ron
Lin
Cheers,
Dan
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn.