In Memorium

In World War II's wake, as soldiers were clearing out of a hospital in Italy, they found on the floor a poem. The poem had been written by a nurse. I always imagined her as a young, war-weary woman with compassion she couldn't express hidden in her eyes.

Every time I think of men and women who fight for whatever cause, or country, this poem is in my mind. Edwin McCain set it to music and made a powerful anthem for service and sacrifice. For my Grandfather, buried in Arlington. For my friends who served after we parted high school. For Travis, who left parts of himself in Iraq but came home to the rest of himself. For people I have never known, whose protection I have always appreciated.

A Prayer To St. Peter

author unknown

Let them in, Peter
For they are very tired
Give them couches where the angels sleep
And light those fires

Let them wake whole again
To brand new dawns
Fired by the sun,
Not wartime's bloody guns

May their peace be deep
Remember where the broken bodies lie
God knows how young they were to have to die

Give them things they like
Let them make some noise
Give dance hall bands, not golden harps
To these, Our Boys

Let them love, Peter
For they've had no time
They should have bird songs, and trees
And hills to climb

The taste of summer
A ripened pear
And girls, sweet as meadow wind
With flowing hair

And tell them how they are missed,
But say not to fear
It's gonna be all right
With us down here