A Pleasant Walk On the Beach

We stepped down from our comfortable bus, Strong winds whipping the flags to attention. We walked across a narrow parking lot Along a narrow path towards the sea, Just a quiet group of tourists, Only the crunch of shoes on gravel, On a cool spring day. Grassy mounds lie as far as the eye can see Remains of shell craters not yet erased By years of wind and rain, The marching of visitors’ feet, And the passing of the years. Concrete bunkers still stand watch out to sea Skeletal tangles of rusted steel reinforcements With here and there a bullet hole, Awaiting their eventual demise, When the constant sea erodes their foundations, And they fall away before the waves’ invasion. This was the last sight for so many, Germans looking out across the rocky beach, And Allied soldiers staring in fear Towards where we now stand With our cameras and cellphones. So many graves, marked and not Hallow this ground. So let us never forget The heavy price that was paid For our pleasant walk On the beach.