Thurman P. Woodfork
IS IT MEMORIAL DAY AGAIN?
Cadet Harlan F. Woodfork
Died in his sleep at age nineteen just before he was to return to college “… Whose passing was like the death of the sun…”
Awarded: June 2, 2005Sometime yesterday morning I read
Where somebody quietly, truthfully said,
“Memorial Day isn’t special for me,
From some memories I’ll never be free.”
Whoever it was, those words rang true:
Back through time, out of the blue,
Sometimes unbidden recollection stirs
And another old memory slowly recurs.
A picture, an aroma, a snatch of song
Bring back the scenes, clear and strong:
A mother’s smile, a lover’s touch,
The faithful friend who meant so much,
The brother, always relied upon,
Whose passing was like the death of the sun;
A few acid-etched memories from the war
Constantly hover near my mind’s door.
Memories, all stored in my very own way,
That have no need for a special day.
©Copyright May 30, 2005 by Thurman P. Woodfork