Empty Boots
The empty boots, neatly laced and, alas, now on display,
Belonged to a gallant soldier who died the other day.
Another patriot gave his all in the service of his nation.
He placed service above self to fulfill his solemn obligation.
At his memorial, the roll was called, his comrades answered "Here!"
When his name was called there was no response evoking many a tear.
His captain presented the folded flag to his little son on bended knee.
The little fellow clutched it closely to his breast - he was only three.
Not only are there empty boots, there are empty arms as well.
Aching arms that could not comfort him when he fell.
Empty arms that once held him in fond embrace,
Will no longer tenderly caress this noble warrior's face.
There will be empty hearts that will yearn forever more,
Recalling precious memories of the one whom they adore.
There will be an empty chair that no one can ever fill,
Though his presence will ever remain with them still.
Can his kin find solace in that trite phrase, "He didn't die in vain?"
His comrades with heavy hearts will strive to ease their pain.
The haunting notes of "Taps" echoed throughout the air,
As the chaplain intoned, "We commend him to Thy eternal care!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in PD's "Emotional Poem" Contest - April 2012
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