Distant Hill

Tonight on some far away hill of tears, the wind blows cold and scrapes the soil

that once bore witness to young men’s courage and young men’s fears.

Gravestones stand on guard as silent sentinels in the night,

Monuments to years gone by, reminders of the long forgotten fight.

On that small and distant hill what marks that pale and lonely marble cross?

Does a loving distant home perhaps still mourn such a loss?

What friends in life and friends in strife remember through time

are smiles of long lost brothers in arms as up that hill they climbed

With time-dimmed eyes made clear by memories, survivors look through space

Upon the monuments that mark their comrades final resting place

And mothers, long since passed, went to their rest with broken hearts

Their sacrifice so great, they cursed forever the flags upon the ramparts

What cause was this that bore such weight upon men’s souls

That they marched with heads held high and ended up on Heaven’s rolls?

Defense of hearth and family, or ideals of freedom barely dreamed by some?

Patriot’s pride? Devotion? What made them answer the beat of that calling drum?

Who can say with certainty? For each man searched his heart and soul.

A different question for each one, yet two answers only possible. Stay or go?

Those who left and then returned, much changed by what they saw and yet see still

Pay silent tribute to those who left but stayed upon that distant hill.

Distant Hill