Sitting here by a bannered grave,
I keep company with a warrior long since dead.
Just marking quieting time in this new spring season …
I see in my mind's eye a procession
The family, friends and faithful of this warrior of memory,
And especially note that it was a child who carried the flag.
This warrior of old fought and died for the flag
That hangs in tatters now over his unkempt grave.
How long shall it be before he is lost to memory?
Souls when not prodded by the living do become as dead.