Having just spent the weekend with my 84-year-old veteran father, I continue
to rethink the meaning of Memorial Day. Your poem's "thin cold metal" helped me do so–what a tangible way of feeling war, that simple cold memento ever-present and in such close contact / conflict with the human heart.
Made me think: once a soldier, always a soldier. Even a peaceful soldier.
I am hesitant to comment on haiku with a military subject – or at least such poems that one sees published on Tinywords. To my mind such works, like the heroism of the ordinary men and women who place their lives on the line in times of war, should be received with reverence and gratitude – almost with a bowed head. Which puts me in mind of the slight, unconscious bow of the head when a soldier puts on their dog tags.
Margaret Chula, thank you for sharing your profound memorial day poem.
all that remains of his
armour and shield