Too late tonight to frame a thought
To speak the silent word
The birds have settled in the trees
And not a song is heard
The moon is bright, the air is cold
A perfect night to train…
The distant boom of cannon fire
Rattles my window pane.
And you may call them what you wish,
You've said some awful things,
But to my mind they’ll always be
Angels with camo wings!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
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