This is the field where the battle did not happen, <br />where the unknown soldier did not die. <br />This is the field where grass joined hands, <br />where no monument stands, <br />and the only heroic thing is the sky. <br /> <br />Birds fly here without any sound, <br />unfolding their wings across the open. <br />No people killed – or were killed – on this ground <br />hallowed by neglect and an air so tame <br />that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.<br /><br />William Stafford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-un-national-monument-along-the-canadian-border/
