Army Mom’s Safe Haven



I do not understand
They bring so many, many flowers to me -
Rainbows of roses, wreaths of every kind
And hosts of solemn strangers
come to see
My tomb here on these quiet, wooded heights.
My tomb here seems to be...
one of the sights...

The low-voiced men, who speak
of me quite fondly, call me - "The Unknown"
But now, and then, at dusk, Madonna-meek
Bent, mournful mothers, come to me alone....
And whisper down - the flowers and grasses through -
Such names as "Jim" ... and "John"...
... I wish they knew.

And once, my sweetheart came -
She did not - nay - of course,
she could not know,
But she thought of me, and crooned to me the name
She called me by - how many years ago?
A very precious name. Her eyes were wet,
Yet glowing,
flaming, so... [I know]
She won't forget.

Written by E. O. Laughlin