You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...
PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker
on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads
while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member
and block ads forever...while getting many more great
features. Take a look!
Like generations that have fallen before
You fell in a distant land from the guns of war,
My earthly soul pauses every day
And I come this way
To honor always the gallant and brave in repose,
Clutched in my hand are black roses,
Black roses for the youth,
The eternal youth.
On this spring morn your young widow walks
Beneath the maple trees dressed in their new leaves,
Her long chestnut brown hair partly covers her delicate downcast face
As she prays there is a sudden melody of thunder
Which is God's paean to you,
Sorrow pierces my American bearing,
I'll never cease caring
As the soldiers' cemetery workmen manicure the dewy grass
The black roses leave my hand
And cascade down to the hallowed ground,
My bereavement without an end,
Without an end.
Copyright © Regina Elliott | Year Posted 2016