Three soldiers stand together,
their faces worn out and tired,
they have dropped
much of their gear
and stripped down their equipment
along the way.
It has been an exhausting journey.
The three have been through
many losses,
battles,
and struggles together;
along with the heroes
that once stood with them.
In the distance
an immense
black wall
resides before them.
The three stare into it
reuniting with the faces of
friends,
living and dead.
One pats the others back,
eyes glistening
with remembrance of
the little important moments
in the war:
a handshake,
an alliance,
a laugh,
the shot of a gun
leaving another friend
fallen behind;
with those heros
that once stood with them.

How many names are on this wall
how many walk this path
how long do the tears last?

Looking up
you examine the engraved names,
grazing them with your fingers
left to right.
You stumble on a name and your hand pauses.
Your hand gives in and drops to your side.
The names go on forever.

Looking up
many in your sight walk this path.
Families
School groups,
Tourist,
Veterans,
present their respect
to fallen soldiers.
The list goes on forever.

I slouch,
hold back,
and keep my tears in.
My feelings are jumbled up in my backpack
like clothes are in a suitcase.
If I keep my head up,
stay strong,
and be courageous.
The tears will stop.
Tears are ok
but moving on is essential to the stopping of the tears.
It’s up to you how long the tears last.

Colorful pebbles glinting
in the sunlight,
reflecting
onto the freshly trimmed
grass.

You lie underneath
my feet-
hard
to imagine
that you left your family-
leaving them wanting

more.
More of your love,
more of your smile, more of your laugh.
You have left them
with your memory,
and tears
streaming down their
faces.

If only
you hadn’t been
in that place
at that time.
If only
you hadn’t –
If only.
Those two words
so short,
haunting your family
for a lifetime.

I stare at the wall
of plain
and of black
with no other accomplice
except silence

diamonds and crosses
chase after names
into stripes
of grey and black

Somehow
pain
sacrifice
bravery
can be found
in simplicity

And as the silence continues
so do the ribbons of death
that stretch on
and on
and on

yet as I accompany
this wall
a sprout of happiness
is present
next to the cloud of despair
as I search and search
I see no name
that I know

Like a bench in a park.
With trees surrounding.
It sits, motionless.
I see the clear water rippling in the isolated rectangle.
The light bounces onto the bench like it’s dancing.
I’m a child. I’m a teenager.
I watch. Not knowing those who died.
I am pulled back to real life.
Gravel moves as if disturbed.
Soft chatter moves by,
like spirits.
He walks by but the names stay in the water.
Never thought of.
Light in dark places.
Light in the water.
Soaring in.
The plane,
like wings on a
bird.
A bird of prey.
Diving in
for the kill.
I’m a passenger.
Never knowing.
Names shimmer in the water, with the wind.
Many benches sit.
Motionless.
Facing.
Some turned away.
As if they are too sad.
Their sorrows unbearable.