In Memoriam

In my fingers your dog tag, chill and lifeless,

A cold, hard reminder of a soul now lost.

In the other hand a beer, bitter but tasteless,

To quell emotions once unbossed.

Aromas and odors, putrid, dry, and stale,

Flood my mind with memories unremembered.

Of a scorching desert of sand so pale,

And the oily machine of war unfettered.

This barstool of leather, upon which I sit,

Channels the Humvee in which I now ride.

The stench of munitions, the haze of grit,

The glaze of sweat, and you by my side.

Harleys and Triumphs, in the lot they roar.

But it’s machine gun fire in the distance.

Even in the desert, mortality chills you to the core,

For Death is wealthy with persistence.

For months we rode together, brothers in arms,

With a mission, men, and a target.

We frenzied over the enemy who would do us harm,

But left only with hauntings we’d never forget.

And you, my friend, never got to depart,

The IED was loud and violent and left nothing behind.

Your soul in the desert, your memory in my heart,

A dirty mirror before me, and a reflection unkind.

There’s a parade outside, and the band plays on.

There’s sadness inside, tears roll down my cheek.

It’s been years that you’ve been gone,

And in memoriam, I’m still unable speak.