THE HOPE OF HEROES

We quiet-we stop

when they cease to breathe

when their candle flickers

we turn in reverence

unsure how to proceed

They are fathers…soldiers

cooks…dogs…even stars

and upon the stopping of their footsteps

all are lost and don’t want to go on

without their trudging the path

now Ether

for the fog is not for us

Instead  our countenance

moves ahead of others

it being our turn

to take up their standards

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