Anthony W. Pahl


This day of remembrance, with its memories and tears,
recalls friendship and youth despite the pain of lost years.
Will the pride of the march dispel the gloom of despair?
Or will this solitary vigil show the depth that I care?

I have marched in the past and I may march again
but today I need naught but the memory of friends.
It’s their life, not their death that I remember so well
and so, in my solitude, in their reality I’ll dwell.

Think well of me, you who have marched on this day;
think well of my decision to stay home and pray.
The noise and the yells and the applause of the crowd
would wrap and enfold my lost youth in a shroud.

I sit quietly at home, alone with my thoughts
pondering the freedom our exploits have bought.
One right that I’ve earned is the freedom to say
that I’ll mourn by myself, on this Anzac Day.

This poem prompted the response, “Anzac Day, 2002” ~ ©Copyright April 28, 2002 by Christina A. Sharik