The earth, its flesh scarred for life,
cut open by one nation,
the land for which we fought,
and fought over; the land
for which we shed our blood, and now
itself, a gaping hole of absence,
given to its one and only use.
Remember, here lies your country,
a fragile bone,
a leg it thought it could stand on, broken;
a cast of names, a monument
dedicated on the library lawn
and elsewhere, on the Mall—
that space we cannot trespass,
but for the death that outlives you.
Joanne Monte's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Monument by Joanne Monte )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Split Second, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- It is no surprise, Dr PJ Raj Kamal
- Spiritual Life, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- I Saw Planets, Naveed Akram
- Saviour By The Road Side, Juwon Daniel
- went a walk, lee fones
- The Moon's Present Woe, cheryl davis miller
- Funeral, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Mount Patsy Land, Richard Thripp
- dOnE - Paying kEtCh uP, sEaN nOrTh