for Greg...
Of thread, cordage and umber
our patchwork armor is grown and shed
Woven from strands long gone under
cross bonded with others locked arm in hand
Who must yearn to remember
the old adventures in which they bled
Walking through darkness in thunder
also haunted by brothers lost to the land
This conflict, universal
conscripted or drafted in the end
Either to serve or to plunder
the long ago promise of a reprimand
A soldier's song will be sung
and always remembered by a friend
When it has torn you asunder
captured in the drum beat of a marching band...