CALM Publishing

COLD TOUCH OF MIDNIGHT

 

Individuals saluting a flag

In late May on Presidio grounds

Gazing up the hill

At the thousands

Who populate the slope

As it declines toward the Golden Gate

         Bodies of men and women

         Who fought world wars.

         Stop, anyone who reads this and think . . .

         World wars.

         Can you imagine the fear, danger and death?

         Us, Americans, in this 21st

         Can we really see

         How dedicated to country they needed to be

         To enlist and sail away?

         Europe, Africa, the Pacific, Mid-Way

         Tarawa, Iwo Jima, Normandy

         Soldiers died by the thousands

         So you could march down Broadway

         And proclaim rights

         Without being tossed in jail

You can live and love anyone

You can food stamp your meals

Yet if you fall by the wayside

And are not an accountable number

You end up on concrete and cardboard

With a blanket for a mate

Wishing you had left the bottle alone

And the pills on the plate

         Bashful now, you slumber in the sun

         Dreading the cold touch of midnight

         On your all-too-human bum            

                           190517.2