Their fallen cones scattered at the edge Calm, suspended from the world and time It observes the preparations undisturbed. Somewhere near, they’ll build a stage For politicians, veterans, other dignitaries. They’ll have their say, then wing their way, Adding little, detracting nothing. Fewer seats, more empty chairs, This commemoration. I’d rather wait within the esplanade of trees, Defer the grid of graves behind me, Lift a pine cone from the path, Roll it in my hand, Smell its earth and resin tar, Gaze across the cliff Beyond the beach, Drift the moment, Delay the turn. A weepy rain is in the air, But I can hear the hush press on my back, The quiet murmur of ten thousand Crosses sprung from planted souls, They no longer scream. The gentle yet relentless passage of these sixty years Does not diminish any sacrifice; it has removed the sting. Wounds have eased, their pains appeased. Time deftly folds the space between those lost and left, Eventually to wrap them all in common thought, Collected minds of how this place was wrought Wrap us In the mists creeping up the slopes, Seeping through the burial ground. Make free wind stall, and pine cone fall. Let no shadow touch the mall. The Channel’s rough today.
Mr. President, I yield the floor. The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Alabama is recognized.
Mr. SESSIONS. Mr. President, I thank the Senator from Georgia for his excellent works. Once again, he has shown he is one of the most eloquent Members of this body, if not the most eloquent. We are going to miss him. He still has a lot to do between now and the end of this session, but he has certainly done yeoman’s service here. His tribute to those soldiers who were there on that special day many years ago is valuable to us all.
