Arlington National Cemetary Poem by Debra Kay Robinson

In the rolling hills of Arlington
White headstones stand row by row.
A sacred trust—
Bestowed upon these hallowed grounds.
Through the decades, the battles and wars,
A blanket of eternal rest.

'The day is done, gone the sun'
The bugler stands alone.

In a demonstration of an ethos,
A horse-drawn caisson will pass—
Among the headstones,
To a final resting place.

The precision of clicking heels in the distance,
Paces matched—
Stride for stride,
At the tomb of the unknowns.

'The day is done, gone the sun'
The bugler stands alone.

Straight line formations—
Where honor and valor have come to rest.
For these soldiers,
Their last call sounded,
Through the eyes of history.

Now in eternal slumber,
Surrendering to the emotion,
The sounding of Taps—
Their final tribute.

Stand down; rest easy
Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Marine

'The day is done, gone the sun'.

© June 14,2014
'The day is done, gone the sun' opening lyrics to Taps