Memorial Day Poem

A poem from my father, who I thank once again for his service, and thanks on this day to his brother, my uncle Johnny who did not board the flite back. 

The Secret


Three men rode in a green sedan

While fall was in the air

To a farm house far out in the woods

With an old man sitting there


But as they drove up to the house

He met them in the drive

Then said as they got out of the car

“I know our son is not alive.


You see his mother had a dream

That he wasn’t coming back

Now she’s in the hospital

From a real bad heart attack


She never learned to read or write

So his letters she never read

Now I’ll just read her the old letters again –

I won’t tell her that he’s dead.


The good lord will know my reasons

While I’m telling her her the lies

So she’ll believe he’s still alive

Until the day she dies.


I’ll bury him in the family plot

With no marker on his grave

His mother won’t know he’s buried there

At least her life I’ll save


Would you care to have some coffee

Or do you have to go

Thank you for all your kindness

Please don’t let his mother know”


The men got back into the car

Then slowly drove away

There was nothing they could do for him

Or anything they could say


But, the old man kept his secret

and his wife has never found

Why he’s always placing flowers

on an unmarked piece of ground.


More on Memorial Day at Indepundit.


One more Memorial as well, to one who perhaps served us best of all — here’s a few words of tribute at Publius Pundit.