Quote/Poem The Brass Cross.

[Poet soldier]

​

The Brass Cross.​

Far away there is a cross of brass,
That stands at the mouth of hell,
For that fight right now,
With the names of those that fell.​

Before this cross kneels a soldier,
As if in solemn prayers,
Whispering simple words,
For brothers that have climbed heavens stairs.​

After the deed is done he rises,
And looks far along the floor,
Across another repatriation,
Of the most recent soldier killed in this war.​

Another man arrives at the cross,
With an engraver in his hand,
To scribe the last name on the plaque,
His knees burning in the sand.​

His work now finished he rises and looks,
With a tear in his eye,
Then turns to the soldier and says,
“That’s another heroes’ goodbye.”​

The soldier gives a single nod,
And goes to walk away,
Each step a painful limp,
Because there is nothing else to say.​

With one glance back towards the cross,
He arrives at the shade,
And at the scribes complete surprise,
The soldier begins to fade.​

The man alone in his shock,
Glances where the soldier was before,
And no matter how hard he looked,
Where no footsteps on the floor,​

With a shiver he looked across the field,
In the middle of the day,
Over the soldiers repatriation,
The Last Post begins to play.​

28 Sept 09
Alex Roissetter.


Picture of the cross memorial at camp Bastion, Afghanistan
Taken by Robert Wilson