grieve for its native son?
Front-page news and letters
in the daily paper are run.
Friends call the soldier's family
to see what can be done.
Cards and expressions of sympathy
are sent to the next of kin.
People reach out to help
as they would do for a friend.
A realization is gained
of what it means to be an American.
Ribbons that say, "Support Our Troops,"
mean more in this part of the state
than Red, White, and Blue decals
or flags by the license plate.
It means we carry our brother
and not complain about the weight.
Water cannons shower the runway
as the special cargo touches down.
The deafening roar of jet engines
fills the air with sound.
Such is the tribute at the airport
in this proud but rural town.
Hundreds attend the funeral -
a motorcycle escort waits outside.
The Patriot Guard shows support,
saluting the soldier's last ride.
It's enough to make a downcast heart
beat fast and swell with pride.
The funeral cortege, two miles long,
glides on down the way.
Someday the county will make another monument
to honor those passed away.
And future children will stop by
to see what the words in stone shall say.
Today, the grave is flowered,
decorated and festooned.
But the grief is raw and red,
as an open wound.
And we recall this soldier -
and others - who returned too soon.
