by Michael Plante

Late fall brings a freezing rain
and an appreciation of what was.
Our fortitude was thrusted upon us.
We could give in, yet that is really not an option.
So we bundled up and headed out into the November rain.

Our stride is measured by our convictions
a belief that better days will follow.
There is no sense of entitlement
only gains made through our strife.
We risk our souls for tomorrow
never thinking of the cost.

No one ever cries alone here
and the rain disguises our pain.
Songs we sing unify our era
as November chills our souls.

Voices of the past remind us of home
family, friends, those who plead for our safe return;  
and the silent stranger that hangs onto the thread of hope
that our victory brings their son back home.
From where we march it is a small request.

Tomorrow will be a sunny day
far from the fields we march into.
Our minds will be silenced
and where we stand will rise in splendor
fed by the November rain.

Hope will find its way home
as a stranger stands in silence.

For James W. Ferbrache and friends.
God Bless you all.

Image: Lest We Forget Flag
by FlagMart Canada.