How the days have passed away
Nights spent even longer
Hearing taps in trumpet tunes
Forgotten with the hunger

Lost within the last remains
Of innocence we felt
Emerging from our sheltered lives
As youth was made to melt

From icy wounds that swept across
A plain of jars and grasses
Standing in a frozen form
The image ever lasting

Snapshots of the places lost
Within the flowing streams of time
Appear in sudden flashes from
The days we’ve come to find

In this, the life we dreamed of then
Became the answer to our prayer
Carried us away from hell
And left its memory living there

Author’s note – This was written for a good friend who spent months after returning home, unscathed from Vietnam, only to be assigned the duty of representing the US Army at the funerals of all the soldiers returned to their families in the state Arizona. To this day he cannot hear taps without being brought to tears …

“Above all men, the Soldier, prays most for peace” – Gen Douglas MacArthur

Image: http://thebatshatters.blogspot.com/2011/09/taps.html