21 Gun Salute


21 Gun Salute

The Lord Baltimore orioles
Skip on cherry blossomed vines,

The orange and crimson
Drip in violence from her eyes,

The shouts rang out like rocket hearts
That burst
With grateful cries,

The somber, joyous marching home,
The ritual, the celebration,
The duty, the heavy thicknesses,
The flies,

A myriad white pills of triumph
Swallowed endlessly by skies,

I saw you walk with GOD there –
Nothing seemed more wise,

I sing you
In a 21 gun salute
As there’s nothing left to give now,
But canons bursting memory
In sadly precise lines.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s