His flight was due in late that night <br /> <br />So to the base she came. <br /> <br />The guard gave her admission- <br /> <br />she was on his list of names. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />The group gathered in Reception <br /> <br />was, mostly, silent and restrained. <br /> <br />There were mothers with small babies, <br /> <br />Older couples, frail and pained.. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />She thought she recognized one girl <br /> <br />Whose husband served with James. <br /> <br />She wasn't sure she could recall <br /> <br />the younger woman's name. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Like some modern Penelope <br /> <br />She'd spent her years alone. <br /> <br />Waiting very anxiously <br /> <br />for her Odysseus to come home. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />But not like this, not in a box <br /> <br />Dismembered, dead and done. <br /> <br />She'd hoped to feel his warm embrace <br /> <br />preferably more than one. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />A mosaic of Americans <br /> <br />Of every race and creed <br /> <br />All waiting for their soldiers <br /> <br />Who had volunteered to bleed. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />The next days were a blur to her, <br /> <br />Not memories to save. <br /> <br />A folded flag for her to hold <br /> <br />and prayers beside his grave<br /><br />John F. McCullagh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-homecoming-7/
