The Last Roll Call

Tears trickled softly from the clouds,
Down the face of the sky
They spilled into my empty heart
And welled up in my eye
Too many tears fall in the night
Too many tears I’ve cried
Too many tears for each young man
Who lived and fought and died
I stood beside their empty boots
Beneath a tear streaked sky
And when no voice answered the roll
All I could do was cry.

To the ten young men who left Ft Lewis a month and a half ago and have come home too soon. Buffaloes!