Memorial Day Tribute: 'Field of Flags'

“Field of Flags”

By: J. M. Velazquez

Planted yesterday under a grey sky

a continuous mist, like “the crying of angels” someone said.

Planted firmly in narrow rows

almost touching one another, head to toe.

Set down yesterday in the morning mist,

yet their roots run deep beyond the old stone church.

They have bloomed overnight

and their sorrow stands with pride-their price paid full.

Our eyes bowed-throats dry like August noon,

no room for self pity

when looking upon a field of red

stripped in blue and reaching for the stars.

Planted by the soft hands of sons and daughters,

Pained to the worn bones of grandparents

and the clenched and wrenching hands of parents.

They flutter in the soft breeze of spring

reminder that their sacrifice is not fruitless,

but to reflect on the cost of our choices,

hold us accountable for the planting of these fields.

Planted yesterday like young saplings

today their shadow overwhelm us,

like giant oaks.

(Editor's Note: Mr Velazquez' poem was inspired from the Riversone Photo's field of flags image from the Congregational Church of Clinton. You can view that image here.)