The Muse is Loose

Ann and I were in Mystic Connecticut on the fourth day of our Fall Foliage tour of New England. We were staying in a Best Western. I had eaten and went outside to walk around for it was near dark. Almost hidden by a home-made rock fence was a small cemetery. I could see some of the gravestones leaning or fallen over. Other grave markers were simply rocks with no names or markers. I scrambled over the old rock wall to take a look. In this small cemetery I found the oldest graves I had ever seen. Some dated to the sixteen hundreds. Some of the stones were still readable after all those years, but others were not. I noticed American flags scattered about the cemetery. I had seen that many times, but these were different. They were honoring men who had served in the Revolutionary Army of George Washington. I remember one had been a captain. I don't recall his name. He had died in 1781. Details unknown. Darkness came far too quickly that evening and I didn't get to see very many gravestones, but enough to discover this old Whitehall Cemetery in Mystic had veterans of the very first war of our country for Independence. I have searched the internet after coming home and have found more information. Several cemeteries like this one are around. Some spoke of battles I had never known about, but battles that were deadly and took several members of a family within hours. The cost of freedom is demonstrated in cemeteries across our country and world. I barely recall the words: "In Flanders Field the poppies grow between the crosses row on row."
There were no poppies or crosses in the old Whitehall Cemetery, but there was a reminder of battles long fought and forgotten...for the freedom we have today.