For the ones now resting
under the marble stones.
Aligned shoulder to shoulder
row upon row, hill upon hill,
field after field.
The final muster
of the men and,
women also now.
Who chanced to meet
their maker
while in service to
their nation.
What honor could we bestow.
that we enjoy our lives
when they can no more.
Is remembering enough?
Or further payment due
for the balance of life lost.
The spouse never met
the children not born
the missing laughter
hundreds of thousands of futures
to remain but dreams now
for we to walk amongst
and place small flags.
Perhaps, recall a face
an old notion or memory
and stumble slightly
as yet another salty tear
slips from cheek
Absorbed by sacred ground.
But a humble payment upon
the grandest debt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem