Day 868, D Day

 

On June sixth, nineteen forty four,

We saw the end begin.

There’d be just one more year of war,

Uncertain who would win.

 

There: beach and cliffs of Normandy,

Then: held in German hands,

The allies climbed to victory.

Lead, blood, death stained the sands.

 

Ten thousand crosses testify

To sacrifices made.

A horror we solemnify,

Their lives the price they paid.

 

The crosses, stars, with name and rank,

Now fill a peaceful field.

Is there a way that we can thank

And show them that we’ve healed?

 

What can we say?   We’re still at war;

We’ve only changed the place.

The reasons, like they were before:

Religion, land, and race.

 

To those to whom we’ve bid adieu,

We say, “You’ll have to wait

“’Til Death completes his pas de deux

“With his old partner, hate.”

 

“We died for what?” ghost voices cry.

“What did our victory earn?

“Did we die just to putrify?

“When will you ever learn?” (1)

 

(1)  See, “Where have all the flowers gone?”  The cycle of war goes on and on.