At The Un-National Monument Along The Canadian Border
This is the field where the battle did not happen,
where the unknown soldier did not die.
This is the field where grass joined hands,
where no monument stands,
and the only heroic thing is the sky.
Birds fly here without any sound,
unfolding their wings across the open.
No people killed - or were killed - on this ground
hallowed by neglect and an air so tame
that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.
William Stafford
Today's poetry roundup is at My Juicy Little Universe
5 comments:
OMG! That poster is the same one I was going to use with my Monday post! Great minds think alike...
Now I'll have to find something else.
That poster brings such memories of my college years and watching war happen on national TV every night at dinner time. LOVE the poem, Barb. Diane, use the poster again. Unlike me, it never gets old.
Probably more our age than our minds.
I love this poem. It's one of my favorites!
Now I'm thinking of all the other un-national non-monuments: wild, unnamed, never having evoked human jealousies, fightings, killings.
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