On quiet mornings in military cemeteries, the stones speak in metal. A lone penny says, “I was here. You are not forgotten.” A nickel whispers of shared boot camp misery, of blisters and bad coffee. A dime marks the bond of those who once stood shoulder to shoulder in uniform, breathing the same dust, sharing the same fear. And a quarter rests heaviest of all: the burden of someone who watched a final breath, who carries the moment of death like an invisible scar.
Leave a Reply