MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Bearded Iris by Lisa Shea

Poetry


It Has No Name

Sheila Mae Tenold

She the life giver
Black veil swaying
A trio of uniforms
present the medal

A cold heart
replaces a beating one
The color of death
in her hand

Words solemn read
Bravery
Honor
And sacrifice

From within her
The sound that has no name
Each pierces your being
Once, twice, thrice

Flee if you would
Respect pins you there.
Terror your own
snares your throat dry

Three rifles crack in the afternoon
Three wails beseech the heavens
The trumpet sounds a farewell
A tempo of sorrow

Blue uniforms fold the flag
Slow, deliberate, devout
Measured steps white gloves
They stand before her

She the life giver
Black veil swaying

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