Ode To Private Howard

Tough and strong, I marched along,
mindful of the fallen that day.
As I adjusted my tie, it just caught my eye,
a soldier's cross that had faded away

Armed only with flowers, I'd travelled for hours
my mission was a simple convention.
Storm weary and tamed, but certainly not shamed,
it begged for my urgent attention!

Lonely and lost, unaware of the cost,
it struggled for life with the dead.
Once someone's brother, the son of a mother,
of whom much had clearly been said

As I knelt by this cross, and cleared out the moss
a tiny plaque, rested at its base.
Weathered and cracked, it was what I lacked,
a name for this unfortunate case

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poem by Thomas Heron
Added by Poetry Lover
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