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The Widow’s Badge
She packs away the folded flag With his uniform of blue, She packs away his shiny boots, And finally, his blue hat too.
She holds his badge in her hand Her tears reflecting in its shine, Wishing with her broken heart, That she could hold him instead, just one more time.
Her fingers trace his badge Almost with a life of their own, As tears fall silently down her cheeks And the rising winds began to moan.
Caressing his badge As it lies in her hand, She stares at its number 354 Partially concealed beneath a black band.
The badge once worn with such delight Became a widow’s badge today, As it reflects her sad face in its shine, She wipes another tear away.
Poem copyrighted © 2008 by Lydia Warner Miller Web site copyrighted © 2012 by Lydia Warner Miller Cell: 530-391-5056 Home: 530-644-5594 email: brokenbadge8@yahoo.com lydia-miller.artistwebsites.com Fine Art America.com search Lydia Miller 2379 Indian Wells Road Placerville, CA 95667 |
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