Post by cry,crayola. on Jun 18, 2006 5:20:51 GMT -8
every morning, an hour after dawn,
you can see the old man outside
with his flag in hand, ready to hoist.
his green and white uniform,
traditional hat upon his head,
he's proud to wear it
the door closes with a thud,
an introduction to this marching veteran.
left, left, left, right, left
carefully and with admiration it unfolds in his hands.
he struggles with the cords,
after all, he's not as young as he used to be
the flag, temporarily put around his neck, cannot fall
he grabs the hooks quickly
so his aching back can straighten once more.
the battle's over, and the flag is up
he straightens his uniform, the same he wore then.
such dedication put into his routine.
it's all he has left
i don't know if this has a defined point to it or not. when i go running, every morning i see him. i thought it was neat.
you can see the old man outside
with his flag in hand, ready to hoist.
his green and white uniform,
traditional hat upon his head,
he's proud to wear it
the door closes with a thud,
an introduction to this marching veteran.
left, left, left, right, left
carefully and with admiration it unfolds in his hands.
he struggles with the cords,
after all, he's not as young as he used to be
the flag, temporarily put around his neck, cannot fall
he grabs the hooks quickly
so his aching back can straighten once more.
the battle's over, and the flag is up
he straightens his uniform, the same he wore then.
such dedication put into his routine.
it's all he has left
i don't know if this has a defined point to it or not. when i go running, every morning i see him. i thought it was neat.