Here They Lie
(National Arlington Cemetery)
Flags stir gently in the wind.
A light breeze carries hushed voices on its back.
It brushes gently through the leaves of the trees,
Great oaks that stand tall above my head,
blocking out the bluest of skies, filled with wisps of clouds.
Beneath my feet, the roots reach down through the hallowed ground,
Beneath the cold and marble stones
Beneath the green and grassy turf
They burrow deep below my feet
And curl around the fragile bones
Yellowed and worn with time.
Around me lay five hundred stones,
Straight and strong and proud,
standing tall in perfect form.
Silent white against the green.
Here they lie.
The murderers and the murdered
The killers and the killed
The well known and the unknown
Their names have been lost
'Known but to God.'
~Elaine Malmsten