Bleak Willow Poet Verse

Funeral At Arlington

Those who went before were there,
assembled in their ordered columns.

I remember white and brilliant stones,
the rolling green of grass,
a clear blue sky no longer seen.

And I remember too this sense:

	A chair was waiting empty
	while a quiet prayer was spoken over dinner.

	In an old garage some tools gathered rust.

	A folded paper waited to be read.

	A face was missing from a night of cards.

The caisson and the bugle and the rifles,
all were brought together for this final call to order.

Then there was the smell of gunpowder and horses,
folded in the sunny wind,
dissolved into a cloudless sky.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment