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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