Walking picket sticks of Arlington alongside the killing dead
Ponder does include me why the skies are not bleeding red
Her white chain fence growing up from fertile ground
Blackground crow sergeants warn against me hanging around
For she has her way of measuring and filing away young men
In six foot directions receiving soldiers fighting for her skin
For God or for Country forever lying dead
Wrap in our flags of white blue and red
In youth I remember what picketers had said
Dirt was so cheap it’s given away to the dead
But monuments in cemeteries draped in rosemary stains
Taught me the cost of Arlington white picket chains
“For those Sacred Hearts in Sacred Grounds
Who Fought for Freedom and are Heaven Bound”
Arlington
