Column: Poem commemorates the District of Columbia
Published 12:00 am Friday, November 30, 2007
By Tom Ehrhardt, Paths to Peace
&8220;Our Trip To Washington, D.C.&8221;
Let&8217;s go
Let&8217;s go and see this place
Its lessons in pale monuments and power.
We&8217;ll walk beneath the massive
columns &8212;
Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln &8212;
Americans, three tourists,
for many hours.
At the National Archives the lines were long and whispered.
By hushed green light we filed past old words
to see how thin and faded documents become a Nation
We The People&8230;These Truths We Hold&8230;
Not to be ruled by distant kings
or kings among us
By CitizensOur Declaration
We stepped onto The Mall that day &8212;
Between the buildings flat and gray
That marked our place &8212; and in the sky
We saw black choppers whoop whooping by
Ordered by men with feet of clay
Late afternoons.
These endless places in stone
which took our breath away
Guadalcanal, Anzio, Iwo Jima, and Normandy &8212;
We charcoal-traced remembered names
as their memory fell into long dark fields of thousands
reflected back and through us &8212;
we try to imagine but we cannot
Could our tears be tears from the dead
who see that we honor them with ever more?
From places older than even stone
Falluja, Basrah, Kabul, and Kandahar &8212;
In the morning at Dupont Circle we descend The Metro.
It became a favorite thing.
Above our heads these words from Leaves of Grass
&8220;Thus in silence in dreams projections, returning resuming
I sit by the restless all the dark night some are so young
some suffer so much.
I recall the experience sweet and sad&8221;
Near Epinal in France
5,000 white markers on a flat green field that seems to float.
Mom&8217;s cousin Harry McKinley Reed
gone after only five days at the front
&8220;the rounds fell too close&8221; his captain wrote.
From Mac&8217;s letters across this time and space
funny, kind, open and so brave
his troop ship far at sea he reached for home and scribed
&8220;I like to watch the ocean very much. It&8217;s like having someone
rub your back&8221;
and then went off and died.
&8220;We shall not sleep though poppies grow&8221;
the wars are way beyond control
on our last day we&8217;re out of bed
we head toward Arlington to honor the dead.
What decider chose September to be the public view?
To take our wars to distant landscapes overnight
while frightened news
as daily as the papers rule.
At Arlington the row on row from failing hands
the public view.
Tom Ehrhardt is a member of Paths to Peace in Freeborn County.