Ramp Ceremony

Here we are again.
Another day at the ramp.
Irony strikes as final goodbyes
bring distant friends to the ramp.

Hellos, warriors grip their comrades hands,
In their minds, the thought of fallen friends,
Departed and engraved only in memories,
Of the remaining, wounded steadfast.

The jaws of the aircraft gape,
And the tonsils are covered by a
Canadian Flag.
As we despair its unsparing appetite.

The pipes are painfully played,
As the comfort of familiar words echo,
The pall-bearers grunt silently
Under the weight of all their grief,

The escorts march with long stares,
Following the fallen friend,
With sullen sorrow.
Minds numbed of the loss.

We who were young,
Had watched grizzled veterans,
March solemn on the day of Armistice,
Proudly wear their marks of service and honour,

The visible living absorbed our admiration,
As their minds were fixed on their fallen brethren,
All unwitting that we would one day
Take rank suddenly among them.

As we farewell our friends,
Our eyes cannot meet too long,
Lest we betray our common fear,
That our next meeting be here.

Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan
January 20, 2008