by Suzanne Walding

Created on: April 05, 2010

REMBERANCE

 No frost on the ground, but each breath came as steam

and tears teetered on lowered lashes.

The moon was down, the sun yet to rise

over a field of dead men’s ashes.

Candles flickered but resisted the breeze,

each flame a solitary light.

But together those single candles,

fought off the enveloping night.

As the living gathered in the grey chill of dawn,

with thoughts only of those that had died.

Battles not glorified, but sacrifices were,

And as one - the gathering cried.

Each tear a tribute, a thanks, a regret,

an acknowledgment of lives given.

They died because freedom was everyone’s right.

They were not heroically driven.

Heads bowed as the bugler played ‘taps’

and there was not another sound.

The bugle lowered and omnipotent silence

reverberated across the ground.

Remembrance of a nation’s youth,

now spirits standing proud and tall.

Remembrance that all we have,

is built on those that fall.

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