Unmortored brick wall, <br />ivy pushing block from <br />crack, there we hid and <br />played. <br /> <br />Our secret fort, <br />twice invaded. <br /> <br />Once by a girl. <br />Once by jealousy. <br /> <br />Two decades pass and the <br />fortress remains, the invasions <br />destroying our esprit de corps. <br /> <br />I fold our hand sewn felt flag <br />and lay it upon your grave, <br />formally as my military <br />training has taught me. <br /> <br />I salute you properly, <br />as I would another soldier. <br /> <br />While you waited back here, <br />did I hope I would simply die?<br /><br />John Kipling Lewis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/felt/
