ECHOES OF WAR

ECHOES OF WAR


The words I hear echo in my ears,
From another time in space.
They travel over many years,
But I remember well the place.

‘Twas in a field of green,
Scarred brown by the furrows of his plow.
He’d paused to drink some water,
And wipe the sweat from his brow.

These are the very words he said,
Although I was only five,
I’ll remember them forever,
As long as I’m alive.

He said, “better times are coming,
The war is at an end,
We can forget the past right now,
And refer to all as friend.”

The year was nineteen forty five,
His oldest son was coming back.
That blue star in the window
My mom away could pack.

He kicked the plowshare over,
With a smile on his tanned face
Started back along his track,
A path again to trace.

Next came the war in Korea,
And he often wore a frown.
I thought of that summer day,
When he turned the green to brown.

I won’t recount all the actions,
Or of all the blood was shed
I was there in Vietnam,
And my thoughts are all in red

Desert Storm, Afghanistan,
And Iraq, again ahead
He had it right, but turned around,
This is what he should have said

When we forget about the past,
And refer to all as friend
Better days are coming,
For all the wars will end

© 2/26/03

Monty