PatMcGroyne
Sharpshooter
We buried a 'Nam vet friend of mine last week. Here is my eulogy for him.
ONE BY ONE
(The day the last 'Nam vet died)
Once, we many -- invincible and immortal in our young minds --
yes, once we responded to the call of duty, and prepared,
and went
as sent.
Once we were brave and innocent....
War has a way, and changed us, once.
We thought we had survived, by chance.
But Fate followed us all home, hounding us.
There was no adequate resistance,
nor any way to regain our innocence.
So we walked on home, steps one-by-one.
A path, a ladder, a maze, a question:
"Was I really what I was, once?"
Trying to un-think the experience....
"Good night Sweet Prince...
Life is sweet sorrow."
One-by-one we tarry, or go on,
or we linger, unknown
except to our own,
and unsung.
Aging, dying, one-by-one.
Quiet warrior, hero, daughter or son,
will live forever, will live on
as long as we remember
and give honor.
Their lives, deeds, and love live on.
We must never let those die out, alone.
Memory is their hallowed ground;
sweet, fresh, calm, finished in duty and in life.
Now WE are in command of their names;
one-by-one until we are none.
Pat
ONE BY ONE
(The day the last 'Nam vet died)
Once, we many -- invincible and immortal in our young minds --
yes, once we responded to the call of duty, and prepared,
and went
as sent.
Once we were brave and innocent....
War has a way, and changed us, once.
We thought we had survived, by chance.
But Fate followed us all home, hounding us.
There was no adequate resistance,
nor any way to regain our innocence.
So we walked on home, steps one-by-one.
A path, a ladder, a maze, a question:
"Was I really what I was, once?"
Trying to un-think the experience....
"Good night Sweet Prince...
Life is sweet sorrow."
One-by-one we tarry, or go on,
or we linger, unknown
except to our own,
and unsung.
Aging, dying, one-by-one.
Quiet warrior, hero, daughter or son,
will live forever, will live on
as long as we remember
and give honor.
Their lives, deeds, and love live on.
We must never let those die out, alone.
Memory is their hallowed ground;
sweet, fresh, calm, finished in duty and in life.
Now WE are in command of their names;
one-by-one until we are none.
Pat
