A Little Hill in Arlington

I wrote this following a ceremony at Arlington Cemetary for my father.  He went missing in action back in 1950 ir 51 and nothing was ever found of his plane and crew.  No tombstone had ever been erected and no memorial ever conducted that we know of.  My sister found out that Arlington had a hill side set aside for markers for those soldiers lost but never recovered.  It is a very personal poem but one that I believe others can find some comfort in.

There’s a little hill in Arlington
Where no bodies are interred
Yet crosses dot the hillside
And Taps are sometimes heard
Unlike the Unknown Soldier
With “unknowns” in the ground
This little hill in Arlington
Is for soldiers never found
I grew up without a father
He was gone when I was four
Flying for the Air Force
Back in the Korean War
His plane was ore’ the Azores
When communications ceased
The search went on for days and days
They never found a piece
My mother raised four children
Each day she learned to cope
She said until a body’s found
We’d never give up hope
The years went by just waiting
And my mother, bless her soul
Held on until her very end
To a grieving widow’s role
For fifty years we children
Had no resting place for Dad
No gravesite and no marker
No closure ever had
Then on little hill in Arlington
Where no bodies are interred
We raised a simple white cross
Dad’s Taps were finally heard
My big sister got the folded flag
And we all shed the tears
That had been bottled up inside us
For all those fifty years
Now Dad, he has a resting place
With other fallen sons
On a quiet little hillside
Right here in Arlington

Mdailey    01/27/09