John from the Hickman farm
toiled behind a plow
he left to serve in the Great War
then returned to leave no more
simple were his years
from house to barn to field
every Sunday seated straight
in the second pew

Who remembers John?
The picture from my young eye
an old uncle with a wisps of hair
a quiet smile in a rocking chair
he loved a peach after dinner
but all the rest of John is lost
how he marked his ballot
if his heart filled for another
it was love unsought

Who remembers John?
His friends are long gone
the ones who last stopped at his stone 
are now resting under their own
I’m last to carry his memory
and will take it when I depart
then more years will fade to time
and the forgotten will be me