The final re-union will be here
all those long tables set
with candelabra and gleaming plates.
The chairs empty; silent and untended.
No more cold Remembrance Day parades
in gray November rain, with
mournful bugles calling across lowered flags
for those now beyond the common sight……
beyond the heart-clenching reach
of “Action Stations” alarms;
the sea ghosts have slipped their anchor chains,
dissolving down channel
into the mists of final peace.
Discarded lies the paraphernalia of war,
the rituals; the anniversaries afterwards
dwindle into obscurity and neglect
with the passing of the last, lonely souls.