13 May 2009
Inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith
just to get us out of bed,
That's how it seemed to me
as I shielded my eyes from the almost-
eye-level ceiling light--
the top bunk was always mine.
Come morning, Dad never failed,
clad in army green from tip to booted toe,
to wake us with a start, bleary eyed,
wanting just one morning without Reveille.
1 comment:
Wow, flash backs to my dad waking us up in the morning, in uniform as well. I still wonder how I would sleep in past the Cannon blast at Ft Sam, but I did it all the time.
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