The Homecoming Poem by John F. McCullagh

His flight was due in late that night

So to the base she came.

The guard gave her admission-

she was on his list of names.



The group gathered in Reception

was, mostly, silent and restrained.

There were mothers with small babies,

Older couples, frail and pained..



She thought she recognized one girl

Whose husband served with James.

She wasn't sure she could recall

the younger woman's name.



Like some modern Penelope

She'd spent her years alone.

Waiting very anxiously

for her Odysseus to come home.



But not like this, not in a box

Dismembered, dead and done.

She'd hoped to feel his warm embrace

preferably more than one.



A mosaic of Americans

Of every race and creed

All waiting for their soldiers

Who had volunteered to bleed.



The next days were a blur to her,

Not memories to save.

A folded flag for her to hold

and prayers beside his grave