Ronald J. Murray

SOMEONE WHO CAME

I was standing deep in thought,
when I heard the rustle of leaves,
then you walked to the monument,
and dropped down on your knees.

In your hand you held a bouquet,
which you placed upon the ground.
As you knelt in silent prayer,
there was no earthly sound.

When you rose up from your knees,
and were about to go,
I called to you and said, “Please wait”;
for there was something I wanted to know.

I asked if you had been there,
you said, “No.” and lowered your head.
“Maybe there was a friend,” I asked,
“who now is missing or dead?”

Again you shook and lowered your head,
and said, “There was no one,
I just came to give my thanks;
for what these men have done.”

Your words made my heart feel lighter,
than it had for many years,
I was glad it started raining,
as it would hide my tears.

Again you moved to walk away,
so I asked you for your name.
Your eyes met mine; you smiled and said,
“I’m just someone who came.”“