On these hills even the oil drilling towers

Are already a memory, here is where Dickey fell

Who was older than me by four years and it hurt me

During the pain and distress. Now I am older than him

By forty years and I remember him

As a young boy and I am an old and grieving father

 

And you who only remember the face

Do not forget the open hands

And the sprightly running feet

And the words

 

 

Remember also departure to terrible battles

Always pass through gardens and windows

And children playing and a dog barking

 

Remember and remind others of the fallen fruit

The leaves and the branch

Remember the tough brambles

That were soft in spring

And do not forget that the fist

Was once an open hand and fingers