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ANNIVERSARY When I was four And the yellow telegram arrived from the War Department, ("Missing in action," it said,"presumed dead.") I sat, With childhood's gravity, On a gray, upholstered ottoman, And vowed to imprint this man forever On my mental picture screen. The face... The voice... The very presence... Awaiting instant replay. There he is: The handsome First Lieutenant, Always in uniform. Raising me high, Tossing me higher in the air. Laughing, proud. ("No, I won't hurt her. We're so lucky to have her... Love you, love you both!") Fine. Good. Gone. This day. This precise day In May, 1945. |
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