DEATH OF A SPECIAL AGENT
Words said over the new-turned earth
Will fade into the ether.
And words in stone atop that final berth
Will yield to weather;
Mere dates, they cannot assay the worth
Of he resting nether.
But even if words said pass; stones burst,
If mankind recalls neither
Good acts while in the world’s immerse
Speak to the soul’s Weigher.
No more heed what comes here by hearse;
He’s with Him together.
I am a retired FBI Special Agent. I wrote this to commemorate in a small way the passing of SA Barry Bush, laid to rest yesterday in Pennsylvania.
". . . it's all about the sacrifice/And the weapons you choose." Tonic - Casual Affair