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Mar 2024
I speak to you from some dirt in a field.
I couldn't say where. We were soldiers in
deadly combat. We all left intact lives to
throw death's dice for some forgotten glory.
We died in piles and found our way to burial
as the months turned to years. Dead brothers
in arms in historic battlefields with plaques.
I miss your last kiss when you said come home.
William J Donovan
Written by
William J Donovan  75/M/Charlotte, NC
(75/M/Charlotte, NC)   
71
   old poet MK and vb
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