Have you ever had the patience, alas
to count to 101,079?
Or to walk the salt-resistant grass
and touch the headstones in each long line?
To think of each warrior buried there
knowing their lives have been split in two
half for their carefree heroic youth
and half for the freedom of me and you?
If so, you couldn’t have stemmed the flood
of tears that surely blurred your eyes
as the spirit dips His brush in blood
to paint Old Glory in the skies
R. T. Sedgwick