Bright flags wave <br />all along the way. <br />Memories <br /> <br />of caissons <br />roll by to the beat <br />of drums. <br /> <br />White horses <br />mounted and ridden <br />briskly <br /> <br />trot clip clop. <br />Their shoed hooves make sharp <br />reports <br /> <br />all up and <br />down Main Street where brass <br />bands play <br /> <br />the same tunes <br />year after year af- <br />ter year. <br /> <br />No one plays <br />the music of peace. <br />Oh dear. <br /> <br />No coffins <br />are paraded past us. <br />How come? <br /> <br />We all see <br />tens of millions of <br />coffins <br /> <br />once we op- <br />en the his'try books. <br />Just look <br /> <br />and you see <br />the sun is blood red <br />today. <br /> <br />Yes, an' kids <br />beat their plowshares in- <br />to swords <br /> <br />and utter <br />shouts to watch more war <br />movies.<br /><br />John L. Waters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/memorial-day-6/
