Omaha
By Jeffrey Bellows

Published Tuesday, November 11, 2003  | 0 comments  | Print  | E-mail

An impregnable fortress
The Atlantic Wall
Once again blood and glory
Became one at Omaha.

The whine of bullets
The shriek of shells
Anyone at Omaha can tell you
There are many kinds of hells.

Maimed and slaughtered
Without prayer or penance
With the dropping of the ramps
So many never had a chance.

Into the cold water
Across the hard packed sand
Against the resolute
With God in hand.

The screams of the dying
Lost in the thunder of death
How can the sun continue to shine
When so many take their final breath.

The lapping waves of red
Washing up on Omaha
Mute outcry of the dead
Who heeded their nation’s call.

Dreams shattered
Tomorrows denied
Not just flesh and blood
Was lost with the tide
For even those who survived
Lost something deep inside
On Omaha.

An impregnable fortress
Breached by sheer force of will
Now high up atop those bluffs
They stand forever-
Silent-
Eternal-
And still….

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