Only this time
     we marched out of step
     and out of uniform.

Our drill field
     was the city streets
     of Corvallis, Oregon.

We didn't form rank
     or stay in order
     as we walked.

We were all ages
     too old for war
     too young and in between

Women marched
     with little boys
     and old men.

It was a peach march
     parading hopes
     of no more military cemeteries.

We love our country too much
     to want it blasted
     to everlasting waste.

Sun on dewy sparkling grass...
     flowers
     some florist fancy
     some simply bottled.

And flags
     thanks to VFW
     or somebody who remembered
     our Vet's graves.

Today at least
     we sentimentalize heroes
     and remember other dead.

Then I though
     what a waste
     to merely remember.

What good is
     a remembered hero
     a remembered devotion
     a remembered faith.

We honor the dead
     not when we remember
     but when we live.

We must live the faith
     live the devotion
     be the hero.

Remembering
     just doesn't do it.