Ronald E. Shultz

THE UNANSWERED QUERY

Alone he lay dying
From the wound in his chest.
Before him his life was flying,
The joys, sorrows and all the rest.

He heard his wife softly calling:
Calling him to her side.
Thousands of shells were falling
But, with a smile he died.

His funeral was ending.
The hero was laid to rest.
His widow’s knees were bending.
Voices were echoing his best.

As the mourners start to go,
His son runs to the gravesite,
And says, “I must ask. I must know.
Has your death made everything right?”