Remembrance/ Memorial Day

XXXXXXXXJUDGEMENT DAY AGAIN: 9/11
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Last week the trumpet sounded
its bereavement,
a piper unfolded Amazing Grace
as Clans paraded in their kilts
before the tapping drums,
shepharding widows and children
and the bearers of the empty coffin,
as if there were a body within.
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The widow wants closure
after endless sifting of dust
and prayers to find a bone
that says, this was he.
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Let's bury his blood,
stored away for when need be.
We'll drip it into a clear glass vial,
top it with a faceted crystal,
place it on a satin comforter,
seal the casket's lid,
so it remains at peace forever.
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The place of rest
will bear his name on granite.
The widow has a spot to whisper now,
and the drop of red
that lies inside the coffin,
is safe
to never spill as blood.
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from: Two Ghosts/ Poems