When They Fire Those Guns For Me*

When they Fire those Guns For Me*

Gregg Metcalf

July 24, 2014

I went to a funeral the other day for a neighbor

He laid down his tools and finally quit his labor

They gussied him up about as good as he could be

But one thing they did sure impressed the heck out of me

You see when the service started it got all quiet like a tomb

You could of heard a pin drop anywhere in that big ole room

In marched a couple of soldiers sent by our dear Uncle Sam

And when they stopped at the casket was when it all began

Outside on the lawn stood soldiers that were straight as a rod

They came to give him a salute as an Army Rifle squad

The sergeant in charge gave the command to shoulder arms

They fired those guns to honor the one who’d bought the farm

So this made me think about when it came to be my time

To cash in my chips I sure hoped to me they’d be so kind

As to fire a 21 gun salute to honor my time in the Corps

Makes me wish I could hear the sound from those rifle bores

When they fire those guns for me I want them to be loud

And while you’re at it give everyone a gun in the crowd

Let’s throw a hoe-down when they fire those guns for me

And maybe once again I can be the life of the party

*This poem is based on a 21 gun salute given in honor of my former neighbor of seven years Gene Gartman who passed away on July 21, 2014. I attended his memorial service yesterday at the Robert Gray Baptist Church of Longview, WA. Please note, in this poem I have taken much literary license. I intend on writing a far more serious poem using the same title.