Final Roll Call

We stand in rows, all at attention
Our names called one by one
His name called, but no one answers,
They call twice more then none.

A crashing volley rends the air,
As the guns in sequence shoot
One final, thunderous roar,
This jolting last salute.

Gleaming rifles, polished brass
Dressed in their very best
With smart precision they pay their homage
As we mark this Soldier’s rest.

The rifles silent, two by two
We march to the tiny altar
Snap to attention, long salute
It’s then I start to falter.

The tears all flow, as I stare ahead
Before those sand-worn boots
The upturned rifle holding tall
Sharp blade for steely roots.

For but a second, I glance down
His tags so gently sway,
Catch the sun, and share the gleam
Then twist into pewter gray.

My tears play back his face,
As his voice rings in my head
In that moment, he seems alive
And I feel like I’m dead.

Just a minute, yet seems a lifetime
As the bugle softly plays
I step away, but leave my heart
My mind a forlorn haze.

Such ‘tis life, our hardest duty
To leave our brother there.
He was so young, with so much promise
But war is never fair.