by Blaine Howerton | NorthFortyNews.com
Across the plains where meadowlarks rise
And morning settles soft on the foothills,
We remember them.
The sons and daughters of Colorado soil
Who walked beneath cottonwoods along the Poudre,
Drove county roads at sunrise,
And believed this country was worth protecting.
Some left from farm towns and Front Range neighborhoods,
From Fort Collins, Loveland, Greeley, and Wellington,
Where porch lights still wait through the night
And flags stir quietly in the spring wind.
Now Memorial Day returns
With mountain snow on distant peaks,
Barbecue smoke in backyards,
And children racing bicycles down familiar streets.
But beneath the gatherings and long weekends
Lives a quieter truth:
Freedom has always carried names.
Real names.
Etched into stone,
Spoken softly by families who still remember.
And here in Northern Colorado,
Where communities still pause for funeral processions,
Sacrifice is never abstract.
It lives in empty chairs, old photographs,
And stories passed down each Memorial Day.
Tonight the sun will fall behind the Rockies,
Casting gold across the Front Range.
For those who gave everything,
May we live worthy of the peace they left behind.