The battery
Uncharged
A circle of veterans
Blown out
In place
Of canon
Held
The ridge
A company
Mark of pride
Ornamental cherries
Line the boulevards
Of mausoleums
Unknown
To those
Who tamped
In earnest
Somewhere
On this river
Banks another bow
Taught
A branch
To quiver
Endlessly
In current
The morning is
Still young
Of mirrors
This picture
Is too old
To roust
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2014
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