The Field Of Honor

The Field Of Honor

Today was a good day
because we’re still here.
None of us has become a statistic
in our hometown newspaper.
None of us has turned into a knock
at a loved one’s front door.
Simply because we made it out alive,
today was a good day.

Today was a good day
because I have no wounds.
Better yet, no bullets blew by,
no scope pointed on me,
no near miss,
no ready, aim, goodbye.
Today was a good day.

Today was a good day
because I slept through the night,
and a good night’s sleep at that.
There was no watch to take,
no explosions breaking through my dreams,
bursting me awake.
In fact, I didn’t dream.
And because of that,
today was a good day.

Today was a good day
because I’ve had something to eat.
I’ve had three full meals (plus snacks)
of food that I chose, food that I wanted
because I knew it would taste good,
food that I could prepare or buy
to make me feel good. I ate it and
today was a good day.

Today was a good day
because it’s ending in bed.
It’s ending at home,
where I can read a book or watch TV,
stay up too late or go to sleep early.
Tonight, I am home, and so
today was a good day.

Today was a good day
because I’m able to look back.
I’m able to be proud of those I’ve known,
what they’ve done, who they’ve become.
I can look back on that field of honor
and remember when days weren’t this good.
Because I can remember,
today was a good day.