The bank of flags and red and white stripped coffin
are electric to our sight
Despite our most profound enemy being our need for drama
I am glad our local paper keeps the pressure on.
We must not be stupid or calloused about their lives
Grief of the greatest magnitude is in order at their passing.
Too many have not been mourned.
Too much lost of what the blessing of their lives
Would have quietly meant even to those
Who never quietly touched their hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem