by Keith D Brinson
Thursday, July 25, 2002
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They cascade their colors into the blackened sky
These angels have no enemy or victor in mind.
Dancing lights, flickering above the earth below
The battle angels are here for soldiers who died.
The lights, now lives past from battles lost-
Reflect within my heart, what freedom has cost.
Dissipating and shimmering, so free to soar
They await our next exterminating war.
Battle angels to be, are among us as well.
All bearing scars; each with a story to tell
A cup of coffee and a cigarette; name’s “Chief”.
He spent all his life with the Navy fleet.
Preston comes in around eight; from WW1
An infantryman with a grenade and a gun.
They’re aged in- body but minds and hearts strong!
Both tell their tales and prepare their battle song!
Some strong some weak, waiting to be free
To make room for more battle angels to be.
A young man walks in, says’ “Dad I just signed up!”
My heart cries! Then pride as I drop my coffee cup.
“My son, a Battle Angel to be”
I dedicate this to Bob, “Chief” and Preston. Two who have
served our country and allow me to listen to their tales.