Memorial Day circa 1946-47

      More Letters From Paradise
            Memorial Day
The following poem was written many years ago, and I always thought that it should be printed somewhere.

            Memorial Day
            ca. 1946-47
Year after year the pattern remained the same.
It never seemed to rain on Memorial Day.
It wouldn't have dared.
Red, white, and blue crepe paper
would be woven in and out between bicycle spokes.
Streamers from handle bars looked nice too.
The few old veterans of Cuba
picked their way up the center of Main Street
surrounded by flags and men who had recently returned from Europe and the Pacific.
There may have been a Civil War veteran or two to lead the parade in a car.
I think so, but I don't remember for sure.
But I do remember that Jake was always there.
Jake said it was awful hot in those blue wool uniforms and that the bacon became rancid in the heat.
He never mentioned if he had killed a Spaniard.
There was a scramble for the hot brass shells
as they were ejected by the firing squad at the cemetery.
Why we wanted them, or what we did with them afterwards, I don't recall.

         Aloha
         Grant