Across the sky streaked white and blue,
incandescence ... turquoise too. The flame of
heros old and new, of peace and joy of
heaven do ... the things that make us better
still are written in these flames unreal.
The stars therein we made this day burned
shortly bright and found their way to homes
and live-forever found the new beginning:
The final round!
They took their craft in gleaming gloam,
its beauty bound to heavens roam.
They took their time to find the plane,
where only they can be today.
And now their being, essence ... zest, its
poignancy, its magnificence ...
find words to weather the task of saying,
how they gave their last ...
The final measure
R. Arthur Harker
I wrote this Feb 1, 2003 the same day as the Columbia disaster ... RIP