Entering Arlington,
passage moves through fields of infantry,
graves of soldiers lost in trenches,
on Higgins boats,
foxholes in Vietnam,
barracks in Beirut,
Iraq and Afghanistan.
The climb rises to the rarefied air of admirals
and colonels,
before the crest is reached
at the majestic memorial amphitheater,
and the tomb of the unknown soldier
that lies before it. 
The ritualistic vigil of the sentinel,
and the somber changing of the guard
is profound to see
a striking reminder to appreciate
those that have allowed us quibble in the petulance
of politic, et cetera,
to appreciate those that volunteer
despite ourselves.