Graves of veterans at Blossom Hill Cemetery.
There are times that we gather,
moments when silence is our only friend,
we contemplate what once was,
until those days did end.
We place a small flag on a grave,
on a sunny day feeling quite alone,
this person that served,
their heroism not known.
There are times we hold sacred,
we do something just because,
we plant flowers and pray,
for those thoughts once was.
People make their pilgrimage,
at the cemetery it is time they will spend,
there are times that we gather,
moments when silence is our only friend.
