Lest we forget

Beth sent me an e-mail two days ago that included a poem I do not recall seeing before. I'm sorry that I cannot tell you who the author is. Here's the poem ... ...

I watched the flag pass by one day. It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it, and then he stood at ease.

I looked at him in uniform, so young, so tall, so proud.
With hair cut square and eyes alert, he'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought how many men like him had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil, how many mothers' tears?

How many pilots' planes shot down? How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, freedom isn't free.

I heard the sound of Taps one night when everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play and felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times that Taps had meant 'Amen',
When the flag had draped a coffin of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the children, of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands with interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard at the bottom of the sea,
Of unmarked graves in Arlington. No, freedom isn't free.

While we're all out celebrating our most important national holiday, it's imperative that we pause to remember those who have given their lives and who are currently serving to preserve the freedoms that we so enjoy and sometimes take for granted.

May God continue to bless America!