To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
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.
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!
Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!