Honors Poem by B. V. Dahlen

the low keening
nearly covered
the bugle call
sounding outside
that airless space.
we flinched
with each discharge
as the reports echoed
round those chalky walls.
our focus firm on
the flag draped
box
wherein his dreams
of golf and travel
family and time
reposed.
with exacting folds
and time-measured
care
they pleated
that patriot''s shroud.
with murmured condolences
they pressed it to her hands,
and she embraced
it silently.