They stood to be acknowledged. The rest of us applaud.
They served through fear and danger. Can’t know just what they saw.
The way one man explained it, made sense enough to me.
“War makes the kind of stories that never were to be.”
He seldom watched war movies, but saved his uniform.
He paid our price for freedom. He’d lived through battle storms.
Some guys had seen Korea. Some served in World War II.
One, whose ponytail was gray, saw Nam for me and you.
A younger looking female, stood straight with humble grace.
Her children prayed not knowing that death was in Mom’s face.
Small numbers in proportion to those who sit in pews.
They more than paid. They sacrificed. We watched the evening news.
Each one had served their nation. The tallest of them all,
Looked up to all the others. He never got “the call.”
No doubt I am indebted to everyone that stood,
And to the countless loved ones whose loss was for my good.
I cry with just the music of military bands.
They’re ready to get dirty. White gloves upon their hands.
Each branch, a noble purpose. The Army and Air Force.
The Coast Guard and the Guardsmen. The strong who won’t change course.
I will add this disclosure: Compelled, I must come clean.
I’m partial to the haircut. My son’s a brave Marine.

by Rita Klundt

Written on the occasion of Veteran’s Day 2014