A Norman Sunset.

As the crosses, row upon row of white
Glitter in the French twilight,
I struggle to think of words to say,
To help commemorate this day.

I gladly accepted the challenge gave,
To carefully tend each and every grave,
And tell their stories when they cannot
So their sacrifice never would be forgot.

But how to pass on such a tale,
As the Greatest Generation passes the veil?
What humble words could I ever write,
To give proper due to their tremendous fight?

Then the words of one old, grizzled vet
Gave me the best answer I’ve heard of yet.
So remember, when the twilights fall,
And whenever you hear the bugles call
“We all gave some, but some gave all.”