Mark E. Brotherton

THEY CAME TO ME

They came to me
Over seas
They told me things I already knew
But then they were special they were ‘our few’
Warmly greeted they relaxed and remembered
Suddenly on the end of a gray finger the words spilled
‘Then there was this one time
On B-17 or 24 they flew
Stories that the archives should try everything to catch
I was hearing as they were told to me
Sometimes in reflection, sometimes in joy!
Often times in fear
As if they were confessing
Confessing in fear to me,
A modern day brother in arms they told
A reminder that we in uniform existed and knew
A small portion of what they had been through
Not that I could compared
But to listened, I offered
Only to carry the burden
Of what sons and daughters often did not want to hear
Here today in this year, through a trembling tear
Wives try to listen, try to comprehend
Sentiment and travel rolling into one
All the messages they now send
An honor I’ll bear
Hoping somehow now here to share
Into the veterans’ eyes, I still stare

©Copyright November 27, 2004 by Mark E. Brotherton